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CALIFORNIA    STATE    SERIES 


A 

FIFTH   READER 

BY 

ARNOLD  AND  GILBERT 


REVISED    BY 

THE    STATE    TEXT-BOOK    COMMITTEE 

AND    APPROVED    BY 

THE    STATE    BOARD    OF    EDUCATION 


SACRAMENTO 
W.  W.   Shannon,  Superintendent  State   Printing 


^^^. 


^ 


COPYEIGIIT,    1910,    BY 

THE  PEOPLE  OF  THE  STATE  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


Copyright,  1897,  by 
SILVER,   BURDETT  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved. 


EDUCATION^DEPT. 


In  the  compilation  of  this  book  certain  matter  from  "Step- 
ping Stones  to  Literature,"  a  Reader  for  Fifth  Grades,  by 
Sarah  Louise  Arnold  and  Charles  B.  Gilbert,  has  been  used.  All 
such  matter  is  protected  by  the  copyright  entries  noted  above. 

1e~50m — 10,' 10 


THIS  series  of  books  is  designed  to  meet  in  particular  two  educa- 
tional needs :  first,  reading  books  containing  better  literature 
than  the  average  Reader  contains  ;  second,  books  adapted  to  the  modern 
graded  school.  The  ordinary  series  of  Readers  consists  of  five  or  six 
books,  —  the  first  three  being  composed  of  made  matter,  put  together 
upon  the  theory  that  children  can  read  only  selections  containing 
certain  words.  The  remaining  two  or  three  books  are  composed 
partly  of  original  matter  and  partly  of  short,  disconnected  selections 
from  standard  authors,  —  many  of  these  selections  not  being  suited  to 
children  of  any  age,  and  none  of  them  being  graded  with  reference 
to  adaptation  of  language  or  thought. 

In  the  present  series,  its  authors  have  aimed  to  include  nothing  but 
good  literature,  the  greater  part  being  selected  from  standard  writers ; 
and  in  so  far  as  possible  the  selections  are  given  entire  as  they  came 
from  the  writers'  hands.  In  each  book,  beginning  with  the  Fourth, 
are  to  be  found  some  selections  of  considerable  length,  both  in  prose 
and  poetry,  complete  as  they  were  first  published. 

In  those  instances  in  which  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  abbre- 
viate articles,  the  authors  have  attempted  to  give  complete  chapters  or 
such  other  selections  as  constitute  in  themselves  literary  wholes,  and 
also  to  induce  the  pupils  to  read  the  emtire  books  from  which  the 
selections  are  taken.  This  suggestion  is  deemed  very  important.  The 
tendency  of  the  day  is  to  scrappy  reading.  It  is  fostered  by  news- 
papers, periodicals,  and  compendia  of  literature ;  and  it  is  hoped  that 
these  Readers  will  help  to  combat  this  unfortunate  tendency,  and  lead 
to  the  reading  of  good  books. 


M187504 


PREFACE. 


The  second  special  feature  of  Stepping  Stones  to  Literature 
is  their  perfect  adaptation  to  graded  schools.  The  usual  division  of 
the  higher  Readers  of  a  series  into  Fourth,  Fifth,  and  Sixth,  is  founded 
upon  no  principle  thus  far  discovered.  This  series  consists  of  eight 
books,  one  for  each  grade  of  the  ordinary  graded  school  system.  It  is 
believed  that  this  feature  will  be  of  great  value.  It  simplifies  the  work 
of  the  teacher,  and  makes  it  possible  to  correlate  the  reading  with  the 
other  subjects  in  the  school  curriculum. 

In  the  Fourth  Book  the  child  is  given  his  first  distinct  introduction 
to  mythology.  In  the  earlier  books,  fables  and  fairy  stories  have  been 
used,  and  there  has  been  a  little  suggestion  of  mythology ;  but  in  the 
Fourth,  myth  and  wonder  —  those  subjects  which  appeal  to  the  child's 
imagination  and  carry  him  out  of  his  limited  environment  into  a  larger 
world  —  are  emphasized.  We  believe  that  this  is  in  accord  with  what- 
ever truth  exists  in  the  culture  epoch  theory  of  education. 

It  also  makes  a  suitable  and  natural  introduction  to  the  historical 
matter,  of  which  a  greater  proportion  appears  in  the  higher  books. 
The  connection  between  this  matter  and  that  in  the  lower  books  is  fui-- 
nished  by  two  fables,  "The  Fox  and  the  Cat"  and  "The  Fox  and  the 
Horse,"  and  by  such  humorous  poems  as  "  That  Calf  "  and  "  The  Cow 
and  the  Ass."  These  lead,  on  the  one  side,  to  the  Nature  readings  both 
in  verse  and  prose ;  on  the  other  side,  they  lead  directly  to  the  myth, 
and  the  myth  introduces  the  child  easily  and  naturally  to  history, — 
the  Hiawatha  myth,  for  example,  making  an  excellent  introduction  to 
American  history,  and  the  Greek  myth,  to  ancient  history.  The  selec- 
tion from  "  Aladdin "  belongs  to  that  class  of  purely  imaginative 
literature  which  all  children  read  and  enjoy. 

In  the  Fifth  Book  the  use  of  the  myth  which  is  found  in  the  P'ourth 
is  continued,  but  the  myths  here  used  are  mainly  historical,  leading 
directly  to  the  study  of  history.  Here  is  given  an  acquaintance  with 
the  mythology  of  our  Norse  forefathers,  and  also  with  the  semi-mytho- 
logical literature  of  western  Europe.  This  is  followed  by  some  selec- 
tions of  a  more  definitely  historical  character  than  any  given  in  the 
Fourth.  The  purely  imaginative  literature  —  as,  for  example,  "  The 
King  of  the  Golden  River  "  —  is  of  an  order  better  adapted  to  the  ad- 
vancing age  of  the  child,  and  has  a  more  distinctly  aesthetic  and  ethical 
purpose.  Nature  readings  are  continued,  and  several  selections  of  a 
patriotic  character  are  given  as  an  introduction  to  the  considerable 
amount  of  reading  of  this  class  found  in  the  Sixth  and  Seventh  books. 

In  the  Sixth  Book  the  pure  myth  does  not  appear,  but  in  its  place 
is  much  of  history,  especially  of  the  legendary  lore  which  appeals  to 
the  developing  imagination  of  the  child,  —  such  as  the  tales  of  ancient 
Rome  and  Scott's  poems. 


PREFACE. 


There  is  a  large  increase  of  matter  which  tends  to  stimulate  patri- 
otism, including  particularly  national  songs.  Here  appear  several 
selections  from  that  sort  of  literature  which  requires  thought  and 
develops  taste,  such  as  "  The  Voyage  to  Lilliput."  Here  also  are  found 
some  appeals  to  the  child's  natural  love  of  adventure  and  sports.  The 
ethical  motive  is  plainly  evident  throughout  this  book. 

The  Seventh  Book  is  made  entirely  of  selections  from  American 
authors.  It  is  intended  for  the  grade  in  which  most  stress  is  usually 
laid  upon  the  study  of  the  history  of  the  United  States,  and  can  very 
appropriately  be  used  in  connection  with  this  study.  The  literature 
of  a  country  cannot  be  separated  from  its  history,  and  the  natural 
connection  between  these  two  should  be  emphasized  in  all  study  of 
either.  This  book  is  especially  rich  in  matter  intimately  connected 
with  history,  and  tending  to  stimulate  patriotism. 

Here,  more  than  in  some  of  the  other  books,  selections  have  been 
made  from  longer  works,  and  it  is  hoped  that  the  teachers  will  urge  the 
children-  to  read  the  works  entire. 

The  Eighth  Book  is  made  wholly  from  the  writings  of  English 
authors.  In  many  schools  the  study  of  English  history  is  introduced 
in  this  grade.  In  such  schools  the  selections  here  given  will  be  found 
appropriate.  Even  in  those  schools  in  which  the  history  of  England  is 
not  specifically  studied,  it  is  of  necessity  studied  incidentally  in  connec- 
tion with  the  history  of  our  own  country,  and  a  familiarity  with  the 
writings  of  the  best  English  authors  is  essential  to  a  comprehension 
of  the  writings  of  our  own.  The  selections  here  given,  while  especially 
appropriate  for  use  in  connection  with  the  study  of  history,  are  made 
from  standard  authors,  such  as  every  intelligent  boy  and  girl  should 
read  for  their  own  value. 

The  authors  believe  that  if  these  Readers  are  used  wisely,  according 
to  the  plan  suggested,  they  will  not  only  help  to  make  better  readers 
of  the  children  of  the  schools,  but  will  also  aid  in  a  wise  correlation  of 
studies,  will  cultivate  taste,  stimulate  a  love  of  good  literature,  and, 
through  literature,  bring  within  reach  of  the  children  the  choicest 
treasures  of  the  world. 

The  copyrighted  material  in  this  book  is  used  by  permission  of  and 
by  arrangement  with  Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Co.,  Roberts  Brothers, 
D.  Appleton  &  Co.,  Little,  Brown  &  Co.,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  and 
The  Macmillan  Company,  —  to  all  of  whom  both  the  editor  and  the 
publishers  express  their  cordial  thanks  and  appreciation. 


viii  SUGGESTIONS    TO    TEACHERS. 


SUGGESTIONS  TO  TEACHERS. 

THE  purpose  of  this  series  of  books  is  indicated  by  its  name, 
Stepping  Stones  to  Literature.  Tlie  aim  of  the  authors 
was  to  make  the  formalities  of  reading  subordinate  to  its  real  end, 
which  is  the  acquisition  of  thought  from  the  printed  page.  It  is  urged, 
therefore,  that  you  aim  not  first  to  teach  children  how  to  read,  and  then 
incidentally  to  give  them  some  acquaintance  with  good  literature;  but 
that  you  seek  primarily  and  chiefly  to  acquaint  your  pupils  with  litera- 
ture as  such,  and  secondarily  to  teach  them  the  technique  of  reading. 
You  will  find,  if  you  follow  this  plan,  that  not  only  will  the  first  object 
be  gained,  but  that  the  children  will  learn  the  art  of  reading  much 
better  than  when  the  chief  emphasis  is  placed  upon  this  art. 

In  a  book  composed  of  good  literature,  words  should  be  studied 
only  as  they  occur  in  the  text,  and  as  their  study  is  necessary  to  an 
understanding  of  the  text.  Such  study  is  doubtless  important,  but 
great  care  should  be  taken  to  prevent  its  interference  with  the  real 
object  of  reading,  which  is  acquaintance  with  literature. 

The  study  of  literature  should  not  be  confused  with  the  study  of 
the  biographies  of  authors.  Acquaintance  with  the  lives  and  personal 
traits  of  authors  is  often  interesting,  and  frequently  thrown  light  upon 
their  writings,  yet  its  value  is  but  secondary  at  best;  children,  espe- 
cially, should  give  their  chief  attention  to  the  writings  themselves.  Let 
them  read  freely  and  abundantly,  until  they  become  absorbed  in  their 
reading.  Do  not  interrupt  them  too  frequently  with  criticisms.  In 
no  case  spoil  a  reading  lesson  by  introducing  the  study  of  technique 
for  its  own  sake.  Remember  always  that  the  ends  to  be  secured  are 
a  love  for  good  literature  and  the  storing  of  the  mind  with  noble 
ideals. 

While  the  selections  in  this  series  of  Readers  are,  in  so  far  as  possi- 
ble, literary  wholes,  in  many  cases  it  has  been  necessary  to  abbreviate. 
Sometimes  chapters  have  been  taken  out  of  books,  the  chapters  in 
themselves  constituting  complete  productions.  In  all  cases  of  abbre- 
viation, it  is  urged  that  the  attention  of  the  children  be  called  to  the 
books  from  which  the  selections  are  made,  and  that  they  be  advised  to 
read  them  entire.  Lead  the  childi-eu  to  the  use  of  the  public  library 
through  their  reading  lessous. 


SUGGESTIONS    TO    TEACHERS. 


The  ends  above  set  forth,  included  in  the  terra  "the  mastery  of 
books,"  are  of  course  the  real  objects  of  all  reading.  They  are  secured 
by  what  is  known  as  silent  reading,  whereas  the  school  reading  lesson 
consists  in  reading  aloud.  The  object  of  the  latter  is  twofold :  first, 
the  making  plain  to  the  teacher  that  children  are  capable  of  mastering 
books ;  second,  instruction  in  the  art  of  oral  reading.  While  this  art 
is  not,  as  it  is  often  treated,  of  primary  importance,  but  wholly  sec- 
ondary, it  is  yet  important,  and  should  receive  careful  attention. 

Good  oral  reading  includes  both  intellectual  and  physical  elements. 
The  first  implies  clear  and  sympathetic  comprehension  of  the  subject 
matter,  so  that  the  reader  is  able  to  impart  it  to  others  as  if  it  were 
original  with  himself.  The  second  involves  a  mastery  of  the  various 
physical  organs  used  in  reading.  The  common  advice,  "  Read  as  if  you 
were  talking,"  is  correct  if  the  pupil  talks  correctly,  —  that  is,  it  covers 
the  first  point,  "sympathetic  knowledge  of  the  subject  matter;"  but  in 
tins  country,  where  the  voices  and  modes  of  speech  are  proverbially  bad, 
it  does  not  cover  the  second. 

First,  then,  be  sure  that  the  children  understand  what  they  are  read- 
ing. Try  to  secure  their  interest  in  it,  and  then  expect  them  to  read  it 
to  you  as  if  they  were  imparting  fresh  and  valuable  information.  This 
requires  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  text  and  context,  and  the  free 
use  of  the  dictionary  and  other  reference  books.  The  children  should 
read  their  school  reading  lessons  as  they  would  read  any  book  on  any 
occasion,  because  they  are  interested  in  what  the  book  contains. 

Second,  see  to  it  that  the  children  become  masters  of  those  portions 
of  the  body  which  are  used  in  reading,  so  that  when  they  comprehend 
what  they  are  reading,  they  can  impart  it  to  others  in  a  natural, 
pleasing,  and  lucid  manner.  Practically,  the  entire  body  is  used  in 
good  reading.  Specifically,  the  points  to  be  carefully  observed  are 
carriage  or  position  of  the  various  parts  of  the  body,  proper  breathing, 
clear  enunciation,  correct  pronunciation,  and  quality  of  voice, 

1.  Carriage.  The  body  should  be  erect,  so  that  a  vertical  line 
passes  through  the  ears,  the  shoulders,  the  hips,  and  the  heels.  This 
position^  should  not  be  stiff,  but  all  the  muscles  should  be  free,  so  that 
the  various  members  can  move  gracefully  and  readily  as  may  be 
required.     To  secure  this  freedom,  calisthenic  exercises  are  useful. 

2.  Breathing.  The  breathing  should  be  deep  rather  than  super- 
ficial. It  is  often  well,  before  a  reading  lesson,  to  have  the  class  stand 
in  correct  position  and  draw  in  through  their  nostrils  — not  through 
their  mouths  —  as  deep  and  as  full  breaths  as  they  are  capable  of  taking. 
This  exercise  repeated  several  times  will  tend  to  produce  good  breath- 
ing during  the  reading  lesson.  Children  should  be  taught  to  breathe 
through  the  nostrils,  and  to  use  the  diaphragm  and  the  muscles  of  the 


SUGGESTIONS   TO   TEACHERS. 


abdomen  in  breathing  even  more  than  those  of  the  chest.  They  should 
be  taught  to  take  in  new  breaths  before  the  supply  of  air  is  exhausted 
to  such  a  degree  as  to  affect  the  voice. 

3.  Enunciation.  Few  children  enunciate  all  sounds  distinctly. 
If  you  watch  children  carefully,  you  will  find  that  some  have  dilhculty 
with  vowels,  others  with  consonants.  Special  drill  exercises  should  be 
given  to  classes  to  cover  general  deficiencies,  and  to  individuals  to  meet 
particular  needs. 

4.  Correct  Pronunciation.  This  is  determined  by  the  usage  of 
good  authors.  To  avoid  errors  it  is  necessary  to  consult  frequently 
some  standard  dictionary,  with  which  every  class  room  should  be 
supplied. 

5.  The  Quality  of  the  Voice.  Another  consideration  to  which  it 
is  necessary  to  give  careful  attention  is  the  quality  of  the  voice.  It 
is  said  that  very  few  Americans  have  agreeable  voices.  This  is  a 
serious  national  defect.  No  one  who  has  felt  the  charm  of  a  rich, 
full,  gentle  voice  needs  to  be  told  the  importance  of  training  the  voices 
of  children. 

Special  attention  should  be  given  to  timbre,  pitch,  and  inflection. 
Strive  to  cultivate  in  your  children  full,  rich  voices.  In  reading,  give 
careful  heed  to  appropriateness  of  vocalization,  —  that  is,  see  that  the 
children  use  the  proper  quality  of  tone  and  the  right  inflections  to 
express  the  feeling  of  what  they  are  reading.  Good  reading  is  a  beau- 
tiful art,  and  cannot  be  secured  by  obedience  to  technical  laws  merely. 
It  can  only  be  secured  by  constant  watchfulness  and  care  on  the  part 
of  both  pupil  and  teacher. 


Enaamed  with  the  study  of  learning  and  the  admira- 
tion of  virtue;  stirred  up  with  high  hopes  of  living  to 
be  brave  men   and  worthy  patriots,  dear  to  God,  and 

famous  to  all  ages. 

—Milton. 


THE    BEADING    LESSON    AND    ITS    USES.  xi 


THE  READING  LESSON  AND  ITS  USES. 

READING  is  the  key  of  a  school  curriculum.  It  opens  to  the  pupil 
not  only  the  treasures  of  literature,  but  also  all  that  portion  of 
his  education  which  he  obtains  through  the  use  of  books.  Hence,  the 
importance  of  teaching  it  well,  and  from  the  right  point  of  view,  which 
is  that  of  its  content. 

Reading  as  an  art  gets  its  value  not  from  itself,  but  from  the  use  to 
which  it  is  put. 

Through  the  reading  lesson,  the  teacher  has  a  wider  opportunity  for 
influencing  the  child's  life  than  through  any  other  study. 

First.  She  can  make  it  a  means  for  the  better  comprehension  of  the 
other  subjects  of  his  curriculum.  This  is  a  simple,  but  practical  and 
important,  use. 

Many  a  failure  in  geography,  history,  and  arithmetic  is  due  to  the 
inability  of  the  children  to  read  understandingly  the  text-books  upon 
those  subjects. 

The  teaching  of  reading  should  by  no  means  be  confined  to  the  use 
of  School  Readers.  Every  lesson  employing  a  book  should  be  a  reading 
lesson.  The  teacher  should  see  to  it  that  the  pupils  are  able  to  read 
the  books  they  are  required  to  use.  They  should  often  be  asked  to  read 
aloud  in  class  from  various  text-books. 

Not  only  so,  but  they  should  be  led  to  trace  out  and  see  the  relations 
of  the  subject  in  hand  to  the  other  subjects  of  their  school  course,  to 
literature,  and  to  life.  Excursions  should  be  made  continually  into 
related  fields  of  fact  and  idea,  to  be  found  in  the  Readers  and  in  other 
available  literature. 

It  is  not  the  purpose  of  the  authors  that  one  of  these  higher  Readers 
be  read  through  consecutively.  The  selection  to  be  read  on  any  par- 
ticular day  should  be  chosen  to  meet  some  immediate  need  of  the  pupils, 
as  determined  by  the  geography,  history,  language,  or  nature  lesson,  or 
by  its  appropriateness  to  the  mental  or  moral  condition  of  the  children. 

The  reading  lesson  should  often  constitute  a  part  of  the  lesson  upon 
some  other  subject.  While  the  pupils  are  interested  in  some  subject 
belonging  to  a  particular  branch  of  study,  at  once,  as  a  part  of  the 
exercise  in  that  study,  the  class  should  read  appropriate  selections 
from  Stepping  Stones  to  Literature  or  from  other  books  bearing 
directly  upon  the  subject. 


xii  THE    READING    LESSON    AND    ITS    USES. 

It  is  important  that  children  acquire  early  the  habit  of  looking  upon 
reading  and  all  other  arts  as  means  to  ends,  and  not  as  ends. 

Second.  The  reading  lesson  enables  the  teacher  to  introduce  the 
child  to  the  true  study  of  literature.  All  literature,  whether  found  in 
these  Readers  or  elsewhere,  should  be  treated  with  the  respect  worthy 
of  its  dignity,  and  not  as  mere  material  for  a  reading  exercise. 

Every  literary  production  used  for  a  reading  lesson  should  be  ap- 
proached by  the  teacher  and  the  class  as  a  treasure-house  of  fact,  idea, 
or  beauty.  Its  excellencies,  whether  of  matter  or  style,  should  be  made 
apparent  by  discovery  on  the  part  of  the  children,  if  possible. 

The  reading  lesson  should  be  primarily  a  literature  lesson.  The 
children  should  regard  it  as  a  search  after  hidden  treasures,  and  through 
it  they  should  learn  how  to  approach  books,  and  what  to  look  for  in 
reading.  They  should  be  taught  to  distinguish  superiority  of  style,  to 
see  the  beauty  and  aptness  of  figures  of  speech,  to  discover  the  fine  shades 
of  thought  and  feeling  which  the  author  has  brought  out  by  his  choice 
of  words.  They  should  be  led  to  consider  literature  not  only  intrin- 
sically, but  extrinsically  as  well.  They  should  find  out  the  relations  of 
the  literary  production  to  the  author's  own  life,  to  contemporaneous 
events,  to  history,  to  other  facts  and  ideas  within  the  child's  range 
of  vision,  to  other  literature,  and  to  life.  Especially  should  they  be 
directed  to  other  reading  similar  in  style,  thought,  or  subject. 

Third.  Through  the  reading  lesson  the  teacher  can  to  a  large  degree 
direct  the  general  reading  of  her  class,  not  only  in  school  but  at  home. 
This  is  one  of  its  most  valuable  functions.  Children  read  poor  or 
vicious  books  because  they  do  not  know  others,  or  do  not  know  how 
much  more  interesting  the  better  books  are. 

The  reading  lesson  should  lead  to  literary  voyages  of  discovery  to  the 
public  library  and  other  sources  of  supply.  Through  it,  children  should 
become  accustomed  to  the  use  of  books,  and  be  led  to  love  them. 

Care  should  be  taken  that  the  books  suggested  be  within  the  range 
of  the  children's  comprehension  and  interest.  It  is  well  for  the  teacher 
occasionally  to  take  the  class  to  the  library  and  show  them  how  to  find 
what  they  need,  and  then  to  send  them  often  for  books  for  their  indi- 
vidual use  and  that  of  the  class. 

By  these  and  other  means,  the  reading  lesson  may  be  used  to  clarify 
and  amplify  the  treatment  of  all  the  subjects  of  the  curriculum,  to  teach 
the  child  discrimination  in  regard  to  literature,  to  cultivate  his  taste 
for  the  truly  excellent,  and  to  introduce  him  wisely,  pleasantly,  and 
permanently  to  the  world  of  books,  and  through  books  to  a  richer  life. 


0NTENT5 


Preliminary  Matter. 

Page. 

Preface    5 

Suggestions  to  Teachers 8 

The  Reading  Lesson  and  its  Uses II 

Selections  in  Prose  and  Poetry. 

Lesson.  Subject.  Author. 

I.     Nathauiel  Hawthorne 3 

II.     The  Pygmies Nathaniel  Hawthorne  .  5 

III.  The  Owl  Critic .    James  T.  Fields     .     .  29 

IV.  John  Maynard John  B.  Gough   ...  32 

V.    The  First  Snowfall James  Russell  Lmaell  .  34 

VI.     Writing 36 

VII.     Reading 37 

VIII.     A  Legend  of  Bregenz Adelaide  Anne  Procter  39 

IX.    The  Knights  of  Old 45 

X.     The  Adventures  of  Bradamante  .     .     .     Ludovico  Ariosto     .     .  46 

XL     The  Nose  and  the  Eyes William  Cowper      .     .  67 

XII.    The  King  of  the  Golden  River     .     .     .    John  Ruskin  ....  68 

XIII.  The  Old  Oaken  Bucket Samuel  Woodworlh      .  101 

XIV.  Silkworms /ohn  Henry  Gray  .     .  103 

XV.     The  Glove  and  the  Lions Leigh  Hunt    ....  108 

XVL     Terrific  Scene  at  the  Natural  Bridge     .    Elihu  Burritt      ...  109 

XVII.     An  Incident  of  the  Crimean  War 115 

XVIII.     Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  ....    Alfred  Tennyson     .     .  116 

XIX.     America Samuel  Francis  Smith  118 

XX.     General  Joseph  Warren's  Address    .     .     John  Pierpont     .     .     .  120 

XXI.     Love  of  Country Sir  Walter  Scott     .     .  121 

XXIL     Our  Body Helen  Hunt  Jackson    .  121 

(xiii) 


XIV 


CONTENTS. 


Lessom. 

XXIII. 

XXIV. 

XXV, 

XXVI. 

XXVII, 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

XXXIII. 

XXXIV. 

XXXV. 

XXXVI. 

XXXVIl. 

XXXVIII. 

XXXIX. 

XL. 

XLI. 

XLII. 

XLIII. 

XLIV. 

XLV. 

XLVI. 

XLVII. 

XLVIII. 

XLIX. 

L. 

LI. 

LII. 


Subject. 
The  Song  of  Steam  .... 
The  Discontented  Pendnlum 
First  Ship  of  Peter  the  Great 
The  Death  of  the  Flowers 

Going  A-Maying 

An  Order  for  a  Picture      .     . 
Our  Northern  Forefathers 
The  Beginning  of  Worlds 

The  Gods 

Odin 


Author. 
George  Washington  Cutter 

Jane  Tai/lor 

Eugene  Schuyler .... 
William  Cullen  Bri/ant  . 
Robert  Herrick  .... 
Alice  Carji 


aiior    ........ 

Loki  and  His  Children  .     . 
Idun's  Apples  ..... 

Baldur 

Death  of  Baldur  .... 
The  Skeleton  in  Armor 
The  White  Czar   .     .     ... 
The  Old  Clock  on  the  Stairs 


Matthew  Arnold 

Henry  Wadsicorih  Longfellow 
Henry  Wadsicorth  Longfelloiv 
Henry  Wad  swart  h  Longfellow 


The  Norsemen John  GreenleaJ'  Whittier 

Charles  Kingsley 

The  Coral  Reef Charles  Kingsley      .     . 

The  Pied  Pi])er  of  Hamelin    .  Robert  Browning      .     . 

Daniel  Defoe  and  His  Books 

Verses  by  Alexander  Selkirk  William  Coivper  .     .     . 

Bobinson  Crusoe Daniel  Defoe  .... 


Harold's  Song  .  .  .  ^  .  . 
Making  Maple  Sugar  .  .  . 
Escape  from  a  Panther  .  . 
Romance  of  the  Swan's  Nest 
The  Story  of  Joseph      .     .     . 


Sir  Walter  Scott      .     .     . 
Charles  Dudley  Warner    . 
James  Fen i more  Cooper    . 
Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 
The  Bible 


Page. 
123 
128 
131 
137 
139 
140 
144 
146 
149 
149 
153 
159 
1G3 
165 
170 
176 
183 
185 
189 
195 
196 
219 
230 
231 
233 
266 
268 
273 
279 
283 


Lexicon 301 


LIST   OF  AUTHORS. 

Name.  Selection.                                  Pagk 

Ariosto,  Ludovico The  Adventures  of  Bratlamante    .  46 

Arnold,  Matthi:w Death  of  Baldur 170 

Bible,  The The  Story  of  Joseph 283 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett    .  The  Romance  of  the  Swan's  Nest .  279 

Browning,  Robert    ......  The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin  .     .     .  219 

4?ryant,  William  Cullen     .     .     .  The  Death  of  the  Flowers    .     .     .  137 

BcRRiTT,  Elihu Terrific    Scene    at    the    Natural 

Bridge 109 

nCary,  Alice An  Order  for  a  Picture    ....  140 

Cooper,  James  Fenimore      .     .     .  Escape  from  a  Panther    ...     .  273 

CowPER,  William The  Nose  and  the  Eyes    ....  67 

"                "            .     .  \     .     .     .  Verses  by  Alexander  Selkirk   .     .  231 

Cutter,  George  Washington  .     .     The  Song  of  Steam 12.5 

Defoe,  Daniel Robinson  Crusoe     ......  233 

Fields,  James  Thomas      ....     The  Owl  Critic 29 

GouGH,  John  Bartholomew      .     .     John  Maynard 32 

Gray,  John  Henry Silkworms 103 

Hawthorne,  Nathaniel    ....     The  Pygmies 5 

Herrick,  Robert -  Going  A-Maying 139 

Hunt,  Jajies  Henry  Leigh  .     .     .  The  Glove  and  the  Lions      .     .     .  108 

Jackson,  Helen  Hunt Our  Body 121 

.KiNGSLEY,  Charles The  Coral  Reef !96 

(Longfellow,  Henry  Wadswor^h  The  Skeleton  in  Armor    ...     .  176 

The  White  Czar 183 

The.  Old  Clock  on  the  Stairs     .     .  185 

Lowell,  James  Russell   ....     The  First  Snowfall 34 

PiERPONT,  John General  Joseph  Warren'«  Address  120 

Procter,  Adelaide  Anne     ...  A  Legend  of  Bregenz      ....  39 

RusKiN,  John The  King  of  the  Golden  River      .  68 

Schuyler,  Eugene    ......  The  First  Ship  of  Peter  the  Great  131 

y  Scott,  Sir  Walter Love  of  Country 121 

"          "            "         Harold's  Song 266 

Smith,  Samuel  Francis     ....     America 118 

Taylor,  Jane The  Discontented  Pendulum    .     .  128 

V  Tennyson,  Lord  Alfred  .    .     .     .  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade    .    .  116 

Warner,  Charles  Dudley  .     .     .  Making  Maple  Sugar  .....  268 

iAVhittier,  John  Greenleaf      .     .    The  Norsemen 189 

WooDwoRTH,  Samuel The  Old  Oaken  Bucket    ....  101 


(2V) 


/ 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Subject.  Source.                                  Page 

The  Shipwreck From  Pointing  hij  J.  M.  W.  Turner    Fbonttspiece 

Watt  Discovering  the  Power  of  Steam    .  From  Painting  bi/  David  Need 

Nathaniel  Hawthorne Photograph 

Birthplace  of  Nathaniel  Hawthorne     ....  Original    . 

Hercules  and  the  Pvgmy " 

The  White  Owl 

Lake  Constance Photograph 

The  Sepulcher  of  Merlin Original    . 

Bradamante  and  Brunello " 

The  Mysterious  Drinking  Mug " 

The  King  of  the  Golden  River " 

The  Orchard  ;  The  Old  Oaken  Bucket    ...  " 

The  Deep-tangled  Wildwood  ;  The  Meadow    .  " 

Cocoon,  Moth,  and  Silkworm " 

Natural  Bridge,  Virginia " 

Samuel  Francis  Smith Photograph 

An  Ocean  Steamer " 

Peter  the  Great Painting 

A  Sextant Original    . 

Odin From  a  German  Painting 

Frigga "  "            ** 

Thor 

Baldur 

The  Corsairs Original    . 

Old  Stone  Tower,  Tjlewport " 

The  Old  Clock  on  the  Stairs Photograph 

Norse  Vessels Original    . 

Ruins  of  Old  Cathedral,  lona Photograph 

Charles  Kingsley " 

Brain  Coral Original 

Coral  Stalk  and  Branches " 

Fan  Coral " 

An  Atoll 

Great  Barrier  Coral  ]?eef,  Australia    ....  " 

Coral  Formations " 

Ammonites " 

'J'he  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin Fi-om  Painting  by  H.  Kaulbach 

Crusoe's  Raft Original 

Friday  Swearing  Allegiance  to  Robinson  Crusoe        " 

Rescue  of  Robinson  Crusoe " 

James  Fenimore  Cooper Photograph 

Attacked  by  a  Panther Original 

Little  Ellie  —  Initial  Letter 

Joseph's  Dreams From  Painting  by  Raphael 

Joseph  Interpreting  Pharaoh's  Dream  "           "           " 

(xvi) 


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SHORELINE — LAKE   TAHOE. 


Here  the  heart 
May  give  a  useful  lesson  to  the  bead. 
And  I^earning  wiser  grown  without  his  books. 

—  Cowper. 


DAVli)   iNKAIi. 


WATT   DISCOVERING    THE    POWER   OF   STEAM. 


**  IJoiv  I  laughed  as  I  la>/  concealed  from  sight 
For  many  a  countless  hour, 
At  the  childish  boast  of  human  viight, 
And  the  pride  of  human  poicer  !  " 

(Thk  Soxo  of  Steam,  p.  125. 


f  lii 


Jicthpla.ce  of 
THANIEL  HAWTHORNE, 
SALEM,  MASS. 


AFirTHRfADfR 


I.     NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE. 

NATHANIEL 
HAWTHORNE 

knew  how  to  write 
stones,  and  he  wrote 
a  great  many  of  them, 
both  for  children  and 
for  grown  people. 
While  he  was  tall, 
broad,  and  strong,  he 
was  at  the  same  time 
very  gentle  and  mod- 
est in  demeanor;  and 
he  was  a  man  of  rare 
learning. 

When     Nathaniel 

was   a   mere    lad   his 

father   died,    and   his 

mother    moved    with 

her  little  family  to  a  farm  in  the  midst  of   the  woods  of 

Maine.     There,  for  sometime,  they  lived  almost  alone.    As  a 

boy,  Nathaniel  had  few  companions ;  so  he  made  friends  of 


NATHANIEL   HAWTHORNE. 


A    FIFTH    READER. 


books,  of  animals,  of  the  trees,  and  of  the  brooks.  He  would 
go  out  alone  in  the  woods  in  the  daytime,  fishing  and  shoot- 
ing, and  at  night,  in  the  winter,  he  would  go  skating  all  alone 
upon  the  quiet  ponds,  sometimes  staying  until  past  midnight, 
and  then  would  go  into  a  log  hut,  kindle  a  great  fire  in  the 
wide  chimney,  and  spend  the  night  alone. 

Even  here  he  began  to  write  tales,  and  showed  some  of 
that  wonderful  skill  which  made. him  one  of  the  greatest  of 
American  writers.  After  a  few  years  he  went  to  college, 
and,  although  from  this  time  he  lived  among  others,  he 
never  lost  his  shyness  or  his  love  for  books.  He  always 
loved  the  woods  and  the  brooks  and  little  children.  In 
college  he  had  for  friends  men  who,  like  himself,  were 
destined  to  be  great.  One  was  Longfellow,  the  poet, 
who  even  then  had  begun  to  write  verses.  Another  was 
Franklin  Pierce,  who  was  afterwards  President  of  the 
United   States. 

Before  leaving  college,  Mr.  Hawthorne  decided  to  be 
a  writer.  In  one  of  his  letters  he  said,  "  I  do  n't  want  to  be 
a  doctor  to  live  by  men's  diseases,  nor  a  minister  to  live  by 
their  sins,  nor  a  lawyer  to  live  by  their  quarrels ;  so  I  do  n't 
think  there  is  anything  left  for  me  but  to  be  an  author." 

It  was  a  long  time  before  people  realized  the  beauty  of 
Hawthorne's  writings,  but  at  last  they  did,  and  before  he 
died  he  became  very  famous.  He  continued  to  take  his 
longest  walks  at  night,  when  he  could  be  alone.  If  there 
was  a  fire  at  night,  he  would  go  to  it,  because  then  he  could 
see  the  crowds  without  himself  being  noticed. 

Mr.  Hawthorne  wrote  tales  on  many  subjects :  he  wrote 
about  the  Puritans,  those  brave,  strong  people  who  came  to 
New  England  that  they  might  worship  God  as  tliey  chose ; 
he  rewrote  many  of  the  tales  which  ancient  poets  of  nriM-ee 


THE    PYGMIES. 


and  Rome  had  written  in  their  own  languages  about  gods 
and  giants  and  heroes,  and  the  wonderful  things  w  hich  were 
done  by  them.     The  tale  which  follows  is  among  these. 


A 


II.    THE    PYGMIES. 

By  Nathaniel  Hawthorne. 
CHAPTER   I. 

GREAT  while  ago,  when  the  world  was  full  of  won- 
ders, there  lived  an  earth-born  Giant  named  Antaeus, 
and  a  million  or  more  of  curious  little  earth-born  people,  who 
were  called  Pygmies.  This  Giant  and  these  Pygmies  being 
children  of  the  same  mother  (that  is  to  say,  our  good  old 
Grandmother  Earth),  were  all  brethren  and  dwelt  together 
in  a  very  friendly  and  affectionate  manner,  far,  far  off  in 
the  middle  of  hot  Africa.  The  Pygmies  were  so  small,  and 
there  were  so  many  sandy  deserts  and  such  high  mountains 
between  them  and  the  rest  of  mankind,  that  nobody  could 
get  a  peep  at  them  oftener  than  once  in  a  hundred  years. 
As  for  the  Giant,  being  of  a  very  lofty  stature,  it  was  easy 
enough  to  see  him,  but  safest  to  keep  out  of  his  sight. 

Among  the  Pygmies,  I  suppose  if  one  of  them  grew  to 
the  height  of  six  or  eight  inches,  he  was  rgckoiiad  a  prodi- 
giously tall  man.  It  must  have  been  very  pretty  to  behold 
their  little  cities,  with  streets  two  or  three  feet  wide,  paved 
with  the  smallest  pebbles,  and  bordered  by  habitations  about 
as  big  as  a  squirrel's  cage.  The  king's  palace  attained  to 
the  stupendous  ^  magnitude^  of  Periwinkle's  baby-house,  and 
stood  in  the  center  of  a  spacious  square,  which  could  hardly 
have  been  covered  by  our  hearth-rug.  Their  principal 
1  stU'peu'dous,  very  great.  ^  mag'ni-tude,  size. 


A   FIFTH    READER. 


temple,  or  cathedral,  was  as  lofty  as  yonder  bureau,  and 
was  looked  upon  as  a  wonderfully  sublime  and  magnificent 
edifice.  All  these  structures  were  built  neither  of  stone  nor 
wood.  They  were  neatly  plastered  together  by  the  Pygmy 
workmen,  pretty  much  like  birds'  nests,  out  of  straw,  feath- 
ers, eggshells,  and  other  small  bits  of  stuff,  with  stiff  clay  in- 
stead of  mortar ;  and  when  the  hot  sun  had  dried  them,  they 
were  just  as  snug  and  comfortable  as  a  Pygmy  could  desire. 

The  country  round  about  was  conveniently  laid  out  in 
fields,  the  largest  of  which  was  nearly  of  the  same  extent  as 
one  of  Sweet  Fern's  flower  beds.  Here  the  Pygmies  used 
to  plant  wheat  and  other  kinds  of  grain,  which,  when  it 
grew  up  and  ripened,  overshadowed  these  tiny  people  as 
the  pines,  and  the  oaks,  and  the  walnut  and  chestnut  trees 
overshadow  you  and  me  when  we  walk  in  our  own  tracts 
of  woodland.  At  harvest  time,  they  were  forced  to  go  with 
their  little  axes  and  cut  down  the  grain,  exactly  as  a  wood- 
cutter makes  a  clearing  in  the  forest;  and  when  a  stalk  of 
wheat,  with  its  overburdened  top,  chanced  to  come  crashing 
down  upon  an  unfortunate  Pygmy,  it  was  very  apt  to  be  a 
very  sad  affair.  If  it  did  not  smash  him  all  to  pieces,  at 
least,  I  am  sure  it  must  have  made  the  poor  little  fellow's 
head  ache.  And,  oh,  my  stars !  if  the  fathers  and  mothers 
were  so  small,  what  must  the  children  and  babies  have  been  ? 
A  whole  family  of  them  might  have  been  put  to  bed  in  a 
shoe,  or  have  crept  into  an  old  glove  and  played  at  hide- 
and-seek  in  its  thumb  and  fingers.  You  might  have  hidden 
a  year-old  baby  under  a  thimble. 

Now  these  funny  Pygmies,  as  I  told  you  before,  had  a 
Giant  for  their  neighbor  and  brother,  who  was  bigger,  if 
possible,  than  they  were  little.  He  was  so  very  tall  that  he 
carried  a  pine  tree,  which  was  eight  feet  through  the  butt, 


THE   PYGMIES. 


for  a  walking  stick.  It  took  a  far-sighted  Pygmy,  I  can 
assure  you,  to  discern  his  summit  without  the  help  of  a 
telescope  ;  and  sometimes,  in  misty  weather,  they  could  not 
see  his  upper  half,  but  only  liis  legs,  which  seemed  to  be 
striding  about  by  themselves.  But  at  noonday,  in  a  clear 
atmosphere,  when  the  sun  shone  brightly  over  him,  the 
Giant  Antseus  presented  a  very  grand  spectacle.  There  he 
used  to  stand,  a  perfect  mountain  of  a  man,  with  his  great 
countenance  smiling  down  upon  his  little  brothers,  and  his 
one  vast  eye  (which  was  as  big  as  a  cart  wheel,  and  placed 
right  in  the  center  of  his  forehead)  giving  a  friendly  wdnk 
to  the  whole  nation  at  once. 

The  Pygmies  loved  to  talk  with  Antseus ;  and  fifty  times 
a  day  one  or  another  of  them  would  turn  up  his  head,  and 
shout  through  the  hollow  of  his  fists,  "  Halloo,  brother 
Antseus  !  How  are  you,  my  good  fellow  ?  "  And  when  the 
small,  distant  squeak  of  their  voices  reached  his  ear,  the 
Giant  wOuld  make  answer,  "  Pretty  well,  Brother  Pygmy,  I 
thank  you,"  in  a  thunderous  roar  that  would  have  shaken 
down  the  walls  of  their  strongest  temple,  only  that  it  came 
from  so  far  aloft. 

It  was  a  happy  circumstance  that  Antseus  was  the  Pygmy 
people's  friend,  for  there  was  more  strength  in  his  little  fin- 
ger than  in  ten  million  of  such  bodies  as  theirs.  If  he  had 
been  as  ill-natured  to  them  as  he  was  to  everybody  else,  he 
might  have  beaten  down  their  biggest  city  at  one  kick,  and 
hardly  have  known  that  he  did  it.  With  the  tornado  of  his 
breath,  he  could  have  stripped  the  roofs  from  a  hundred 
dwellings,  and  sent  thousands  of  the  inhabitants  whirling 
through  the  air.  He  might  have  set  his  immense  foot  upon 
a  multitude,  and  when  he  took  it  up  again  there  would  have 
been  a  pitiful   sight,  to  be  sure.      But,  being  the  son  of 


A   FIFTH    READER. 


i» 


Mother  Earth,  as  they  likewise  were,  the  Giant  gave  them 
his  brotherly  kindness,  and. loved  them  with  as  big  a  love  as 
it  was  possible  to  feel  for  creatures  so  very  small. 

And,  on  their  part,  the  Pygmies  loved  Antaeus  with  as 
much  affection  as  their  tiny  hearts  could  hold.  He  was 
always  ready  to  do  them  any  good  offices  that  lay  in  his 
power;  as,  for  example,  when  they  wanted  a  breeze  to  turn 
their  windmills,  the  Giant  would  set  all  the  sails  a-going 
with  the  mere  natural  respiration  ^  of  his  lungs.  When  the 
sun  was  too  hot,  he  often  sat  himscdf  dow^n  and  let  his 
shadow  fall  over  the  kingdom  from  one  frontier  ^  to  the 
other ;  and  as  for  matters  in  general,  he  was  wise  enough  to 
let  them  alone,  and  leave  the  Pygmies  to  manage  their  own 
affairs,  —  which,  after  all,  is  about  the  best  thing  that  great 
people  can    do  for  little   ones. 

In  short,  as  I  said  l»efore,  Antaeus  loved  the  Pygmies 
and  the  Pygmies  loved  Antaeus.  The  Giant's  life  being  as 
long  as  his  body  was  large,  while  the  lifetime  of  a  Pygmy 
w^as  but  a  span,  this  friendly  intercourse  had  been  going  on 
for  innumerable  generations  and  ages.  It  was  written  about 
in  the  Pygmy  histories,  and  talked  about  in  their  ancient 
traditions.  The  most  venerable  and  white-bearded  Pj^gmy 
had  never  heard  of  a  time,  even  in  his  greatest  of  grand- 
father's days,  when  the  Giant  was  not  their  enormous  friend. 
Once,  to  be  sure  (as  was  recorded  on  an  obelisk ,3  three  feet 
high,  erected  on  the  place  of  the  catastrophe*),  Antaius  sat 
down  upon  about  five  thousand  Pygmies  who  were  assem- 
bled at  a  military  review.  But  this  was  one  of  those  un- 
lucky accidents  for  which  nobody  is  to  blame ;  so  that  the 
small  folks  never  took  it  to  heart,  and  only  requested  the 

1  res-pi-ra'tion,  breathing.     ^  ob'e-lisk,  a  tapering  nionuinent. 

2  fron'tier,  border.  *  ca-tas'tro-phe,  disaster. 


THE   PYGMIES. 


Giant  to  be  careful  forever  afterwards  to  examine  the  acre 
of  ground  where  he  intended  to  squat  himself. 

It  is  a  very  pleasant  picture  to  imagine  Antaeus  standing 
among  the  Pygmies,  like  the  spire  of  the  tallest  cathedral 
that  ever  was  built,  while  they  ran  about  like  ants  at  his  feet ; 
and  to  think  that,  in  spite  of  their  difference  in  size,  there 
were  affection  and  sympathy  between  them  and  him.  Indeed, 
it  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  the  Giant  needed  the  little 
people  more  than  the  Pygmies  needed  the  Giant.  For, 
unless  they  had  been  his  neighbors  and  well-wishers,  and,  as 
we  may  say,  his  playfellows,  Antaeus  would  not  have  had  a 
single  friend  in  the  world. 

No  other  being  like  himself  had  ever  been  created.  No 
creature  of  his  own  size  had  ever  talked  with  him,  in 
thunder-like  accents,  face  to  face.  When  he  stood  with 
his  head  among  the  clouds,  he  was  quite  alone,  and  had 
been  so  for  hundreds  of  years,  and  would  be  so  forever. 
Even  if  he  had  met  another  giant,  Antseus  would  have 
fancied  the  world  not  big  enough  for  two  such  vast  per- 
sonages, and,  instead  of  being  friends  with  him,  would  have 
fought  him  till  one  of  the  two  was  killed.  But  with  the 
Pygmies  he  was  the  most  sportive,  and  humorous,  and 
merry-hearted,  and  sweet-tempered  old  Giant  that  ever 
washed  his  face  in  a  wet  cloud. 

His  little  friends,  like  all  bther  small  people,  had  a  great 
opinion  of  their  own  importance,  and  used  to  assume  quite 
a  patronizing  ^  air  towards  the  Giant. 

"  Poor  creature  !  "  they  said  to  one  another.  "  He  has  a 
very  dull  time  of  it,  all  by  himself,  and  we  ought  not  to 
grudge  wasting  a  little  of  our  precious  time  to  amuse  him. 
He  is  not  half  so  bright  as  we  are,  to  be  sure ;  and,  for  that 


^  pat'ron-i-zing,  like  a  superior. 


10  A  FIFTH    READER. 


reason,  he  needs  us  to  look  after  his  comfort  and  happiness. 
Let  us  be  kind  to  the  old  fellow.  Why,  if  Mother  Earth 
had  not  been  very  kind  to  ourselves,  we  might  have  been 
Giants,  too ! " 

On  all  their  holidays,  the  Pygmies  had  excellent  sport  with 
Antaeus.  He  often  stretched  himself  out  at  full  length  on 
the  ground,  where  he  looked  like  the  long  ridge  of  a  hill ; 
and  it  was  a  good  hour's  walk,  no  doubt,  for  a  short-legged 
Pygmy  to  journey  from  head  to  foot  of  the  Giant.  He  would 
lay  down  his  great  hand  flat  on  the  grass,  and  challenge  the 
tallest  of  them  to  clamber  upon  it,  and  straddle  from  finger 
to  finger.  So  fearless  were  they  that  they  made  nothing  of 
creeping  in  among  the  folds  of  his  garments.  When  his 
head  lay  sidewise  on  the  earth,  they  would  march  boldly  up 
and  peep  into  the  great  cavern  of  his  mouth,  and  take  it  all 
as  a  joke  (as,  indeed,  it  was  meant)  when  Anta?us  gave  a 
sudden  snap  with  his  jaws,  as  if  he  were  going  to  swallow 
fifty  of  them  at  once. 

You  would  have  laughed  to  see  the  children  dodging  in 
and  out  among  his  hair,  or  swinging  from  his  beard.  It  is 
impossible  to  tell  half  of  the  funny  tricks  that  they  played 
with  their  huge  comrade ;  but  I  do  not  know  that  anything 
was  more  curious  than  when  a  party  of  boys  were  seen 
running  races  on  his  forehead,  to  try  which  of  them  could 
get  first  round  the  circle  of  his  one  great  eye.  It  was 
another  favorite  feat  with  them  to  march  along  the  bridge 
of  his  nose  and  jump  down  upon  his  upper  lip. 

If  the  truth  must  be  told,  they  were  sometimes  as  trouble- 
some to  the  Giant  as  a  swarm  of  ants  or  mosquitoes,  especially 
as  they  had  a  fondness  for  mischief,  and  liked  to  prick  his 
skin  with  their  little  swords  and  lances,  to  see  how  thick 
and  tough  it  was.     But  Antieus  took  it  all  kindly  enough; 


THE   PYGMIES.  11 


although,  once  in  a  while,  when  he  happened  to  be  sleepy, 
he  would  grumble  out  a  peevish  word  or  two,  like  the  mut- 
tering of  a  tempest,  and  ask  them  to  have  done  with  their 
nonsense.  A  great  deal  oftener,  however,  he  watched  their 
merriment  and  gambols  until  his  huge,  heavy,  clumsy  wits 
were  completely  stirred  up  by  them ;  and  then  would  he  roar 
out  such  a  tremendous  volume  of  immeasurable  laughter 
that  the  whole  nation  of  Pygmies  had  to  put  their  hands,  to 
their  ears,  else  it  would  certainly  have  deafened  them. 

"  Ho !  ho !  ho  !  "  quoth  the  Giant,  shaking  his  mountain- 
ous sides.  "  What  a  funny  thing  it  is  to  be  little  !  If  I 
were  not  Antseus,  I  should  like  to  be  a  Pygmy,  just  for  the 
joke's  sake." 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  Pygmies  had  but  one  thing  to  trouble  them  in  the 
world.  They  were  constantly  at  war  with  the  cranes, 
and  had  always  been  so  ever  since  the  long-lived  Giant 
could  remember.  From  time  to  time  very  terrible  battles 
had  been  fought,  in  which  sometimes  the  little  men  won  the 
victory,  and  sometimes  the  cranes.  According  to  some  his- 
torians, the  Pygmies  used  to  go  to  the  battle  mounted  on  the 
backs  of  goats  and  rams ;  but  such  animals  as  these  must 
have  been  far  too  big  for  Pygmies  to  ride  upon,  so  that  I 
rather  suppose  they  rode  on  squirrel-back,  or  rabbit-back,  or 
rat-back,  or  perhaps  got  upon  hedgehogs,  whose  prickly 
quills  would  be  very  terrible  to  the  enemy.  However  this 
might  be,  and  whatever  creatures  the  Pygmies  rode  upon,  I 
do  not  doubt  that  they  made  a  formidable  appearance,  armed 
with  sword  and  spear,  and  bow  and  arrow,  blowing  tlieir  tiny 
trumpets,  and  shouting  their  little  war  cry.  They  never 
failed  to  exhort  one  another  to  fight  bravely,  and  recollect 


13  A   FIFTH   READER. 

that  the  world  had  its  eyes  upon  them ;  although,  in  simple 
truth,  the  only  spectator  was  the  Giant  Antaeus,  with  his  one 
great  stupid  eye  in  the  middle  of  his  forehead. 

When  the  two  armies  joined  battle,  the  cranes  would  rush 
forward,  flapping  their  wings  and  stretching  out  their  necks, 
and  would  perhaps  snatch  up  some  of  the  Pygmies  cross- 
wise in  their  beaks.  Whenever  this  happened,  it  was  truly 
an  awful  spectacle  to  see  those  little  men  of  might  kicking 
and  sprawling  in  the  air,  and  at  last  disappearing  down  the 
crane's  long,  crooked  throat,  swallowed  up  alive.  A  hero, 
you  know,  must  hold  himself  in  readiness  for  any  kind  of 
fate,  and  doubtless  the  glory  of  the  thing  was  a  consolation 
to  him,  even  in  the  crane's  gizzard. 

If  Antaeus  observed  that  the  battle  was  going  hard 
against  his  little  allies,  he  generally  stopped  laughing,  and 
ran  with  mile-long  strides  to  their  assistance,  flourishing 
his  club  aloft  and  shouting  at  the  cranes,  who  quacked,  and 
croaked,  and^  retreated  as  fast  as  they  could.  Then  the 
Pygmy  army  would  march  homeward  in  triumph,  attrib- 
uting the  victory  entirely  to  their  own  valor  and  to  the 
warlike  skill  and  strategy  of  whomsoever  happened  to  be 
captain  general ;  and  for  a  tedious  while  afterwards  notliing 
would  be  heard  of  but  grand  processions,  and  public  ban- 
quets, and  brilliant  illuminations,  and  shows  of  waxwork, 
with  likenesses  of  the  distinguished  officers  as  small  as  life. 

In  the  above-described  warfare,  if  a  Pygmy  chanced  to 
pluck  out  a  crane's  tail-feather,  it  proved  a  very  great  feather 
in  his  cap.  Once  or  twice,  if  you  will  believe  me,  a  little 
man  was  made  chief  ruler  of  the  nation  for  no  other  merit 
in  the  world  than  bringing  home  such  a  feather. 

But  I  have  now  said  enough  to  let  you  see  what  a  gallant 
little  people  those  were,  and  how  happily  they  and  tlieir 


THE    PYGMIES.  13 


forefatbei-s,  for  nobody  knows  how  many  generations,^  had 
lived  with  the  immeasurable  ^  Giant  Antceus.  In  the  remain- 
ing part  of  the  story  I  shall  tell  you  of  a  far  more  astonish- 
ing battle  than  any  that  was  fought  between  the  Pygmies 
and  the  cranes. 

One  day  the  mighty  Antaeus  was  lolling  at  full  length 
among  his  little  friends.  His  pine-tree  walking-stick  lay  on 
the  ground  close  by  his  side.  His  head  was  in  one  part  of 
the  kingdom,  and  his  feet  extended  across  the  boundaries  of 
another  part ;  and  he  was  taking  whatever  comfort  he  could 
get,  while  the  Pygmies  scrambled  over  him,  and  peeped  into 
his  cavernous  mouth,  and  played  among  his  hair. 

Sometimes,  for  a  minute  or  two,  the  Giant  dropped  asleep, 
and  snored  like  the  rush  of  a  wljirlwind.  During  one  of 
these  little  bits  of  slumber,  a  Pygmy  chanced  to  climb  upon 
his  shoulder  and  took  a  view  around  the  horizon  as  from 
the  summit  of  a  hill ;  and  he  beheld  something  a  long  way 
off  which  made  him  rub  tlie  bright  specks  of  his  eyes  and 
look  sharper  than  before.  At  first  he  mistook  it  for  a 
mountain,  and  wondered  how  it  had  grown  up^o  suddenly 
out  of  the  earth.  But  soan  he  saw  the  mountain  move. 
As  it  came  nearer  and  nearer,  what  should  it  turn  out  to 
be  but  a  human  shape,  not  so  big  as  Antaeus,  it  is  true, 
although  a  very  enormous  figure  in  comparison  with  Pyg- 
mies, and  a  vast  deal  bigger  than  the  men  whom  we-  see 
nowadays. 

When' the  Pygmy  was  quite  satisfied  that  his  eyes  had  not 
deceived  him,  he  scampered  as  fast  as  his  legs  would  carry 
him  to  tli^  Giant's  ear,  and  stooping  over  its  cavity,  shouted 
lustily  into  it,  —  *■'  Halloo,  Brother  Antaeus !     Get  up  this 

^  gen-er-a'-tion,  the  average  lifetime  of  man. 
2  im-meas'-ur-a-ble,  too  large  to  be  measm-ed. 


14  A  FIFTH  READER. 


minute,  and  take  your  pine-tree  walking-stick  in  your  liand  ! 
Here  comes  another  Giant  to  have  a  tussle  with  you !  '* 

"  Poh,  poh  !  "  grumbled  Antseus,  only  half  awake.  "  None 
of  your  nonsense,  my  little  fellow !  Do  n't  you  see  I  'm 
sleepy  ?  There  is  not  a  Giant  on  earth  for  whom  I  would 
take  the  trouble  to  get  up." 

But  the  Pygmy  looked  again,  and  now  perceived  that  the 
stranger  was  coming  directly  towards  the  prostrate  form  of 
Antaeus.  With  every  step  he  looked  less  like  a  blue  moun- 
tain, and  more  like  an  immensely  large  man.  He  was  soon 
so  nigh  that  there  could  be  no  possible  mistake  about  the 
matter.  There  he  was,  with  the  sun  flaming  on  his  golden 
helmet  and  flashing  from  his  polished  breastplate;  he  had 
a  sword  by  his  side,  and  a  lion's  skin  over  his  back,  and  on 
his  right  shoulder  he  carried  a  club  which  looked  bulkier 
and  heavier  than  the  pine-tree  walking-stick  of  Antaeus. 

By  this  time  the  whole  nation  of  Pygmies  had  seen  the 
new  wonder,  and  a  million  of  them  set  up  a  shout,  all 
together,  so  that  it  really  made  quite  an  audible  squeak. 

"  Get  up,  Antaeus  I  Bestir  yourself,  you  lazy  old  Giant  I 
Here  comes  another  tremendous  Giant  to  fight  with  you ! '' 

"  Nonsense,  nonsense  !  "  gro\^^the  sleepy  Giant.  "  I  '11 
have  my  nap  out,  come  who  may.'^||. 

Still  the  stranger  drew  nearer^dl^  now  the  Pygmies 
could  plainly  discern  that,  if  his  stati^^^re  less  lofty  than 
the  Giant's,  yet  his  shoulders  were  even^oader.  And,  in 
truth,  what  a  pair  of  shoulders  they  must  h^:^  been  I  As  I 
told  you  a  long  while  ago,  they  once  upheld  tlie  sky.  The 
Pygmies,  being  ten  times  as  vivacious  ^  as  their  great  num- 
skull of  a  brother,  could  not  abide  the  Giant's  slow  move- 
ments, and  were  determined  to  have  him  on  his  feet.  So 
1  vi-va'cioua,  lively. 


THE   PYGMIES.  15 


they  kept  shouting  to  him,  and  even  went  so  far  as  to  prick 
him  with  their  swords. 

"  Get  up,  get  up,  get  up  !  "  they  cried.  "  Up  with  you, 
lazy  bones !  The  strange  Giant's  club  is  bigger  than  your 
own,  his  shoulders  are  the  broadest,  and  we  think  him  the 
stronger  of  the  two." 

Antaeus  could  not  endure  to  have  it  said  that  any  mortal 
w^as  half  so  mighty  as  himself.  This  latter  remark  of  the 
Pygmies  pricked  him  deeper  than  their  swords ;  and,  sitting 
up  in  mther  a  sulky  humor,  he  gave  a  gape  of  several 
yards  wide,  rubbed  his  eye,  and  finally  turned  his  stupid 
head  in  the  direction  whither  his  little  friends  were  eagerly 
pointing. 

No  sooner  did  he  set  eye  on  the  stranger  than,  leaping 
on  his  feet  and  seizing  his  walking-stick,  he  strode  a  mile 
or  two  to  meet  him,  all  the  while  brandishing  the  sturdy 
pifte  tree  so  that  it  whistled  through  the  air. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  thundered  the  Giant.  "  And  what  do 
you  want  in  my  dominions  ?  " 

There  was  one  strange  thing  about  Antaeus  of  which  I 
have  not  yet  told  you,  lest,  hearing  of  so  many  wonders  all 
in  a  lump,  you  might  not  believe  much  more  than  half  of 
them.  You  are  to  know,  then,  that  whenever  this  redoubt- 
able^ Giant  touched  the  ground,  either  with  his  hand,  his 
foot,  or  any  other  part  of  his  body,  he  grew  stronger  than 
ever  he  had  been  before. 

The  Earth,  you  remember,  was  his  mother,  and  was 
very  fond  of  him,  as  being  almost  the  biggest  of  her 
children  ;  and  so  she  took  this  method  of  keeping  him  always 
in  full  vigor.  Some  persons  affirm  that  he  grew  ten  times 
stronger  at  every  touch ;  others  say  that  it  was  only  twice 
1  re-doubt'a-ble,  valiant;  tenible. 


16  A   FIFTH    READER. 

as  strong.  But  only  think  of  it !  Whenever  Antaeus  took  a 
walk,  supposing  it  were  but  ten  miles,  and  that  he  stepped  a 
hundred  yards  at  a  stride,  you  may  try  to  cipher  out  how 
much  mightier  he  was,  on  sitting  down  again,  than  when  he 
first  started.  And  whenever  he  flung  himself  on  the  earth 
to  take  a  little  repose,  even  if  he  got  up  the  very  next 
instant,  he  would  be  as  strong  as  exactly  ten  just  such 
Giants  as  his  former  self. 

It  was  well  for  the  world  that  Antseus  happened  to  be 
of  a  sluggish  disposition,  and  liked  ease  better  than  exer- 
cise ;  for  if  he  had  frisked  about  like  the  Pygmies,  and 
''toiiched  the  earth  as  often  as  they  did,  he  would  long  ago 
have  been  strong  enough  to  pull  down  the  sky  about 
people's  ears.  But  these  great  lubberl};  fellows  resemble 
mountains  not  only  in  Bulk,  but  in  their  disinclination 
to  m(^ve. 

Any  other  mortal  man,  except  the  very  one  whom  AntsDus 
had  now  encountered,  would  have  been  half  frightened  to 
death  by  the  Giant's  ferocious  aspect  and  terrible  voice. 
But  the  stranger  did  not  seem  at  all  disturbed.  He  care- 
lessly lifted  his  club  and  balanced  it  in  his  hand,  measuring 
Antaeus  with  his  eye  from  head  to  foot,  not  as  if  wonder- 
smitten  at  his  stature,  but  as  if  he  had  seen  a  great  many 
Giants  before,  and  this  was  by  no  means  the  biggest  of  them. 
In  fact,  if  the  Giant  had  been  no  bigger  than  the  Pygmies 
(who  stood  pricking  up  their  ears  and  looking  and  listening 
to  what  was  going  forward),  the  stranger  could  not  have 
been  less  afraid  of  him. 

"  Who  are  you,  I  say  ?  "  roared  Antaeus  again.  "  What 's 
your  name?  Why  do  you  come  hither?  Speak,  you  vaga- 
bond, or  I  '11  try  the  thickness  of  your  skull  with  my 
walking-stick  ! " 


THE   PYGMIES.  17 


"  You  are  a  very  discourteous  Giant,"  answered  the 
stranger,  quietly,  ''  and  I  shall  probably  have  to  teach  you 
a  little  civility  before  we  part.  As  for  my  name,  it  is 
Hercules.  1  have  come  hither  because  this  is  my  most 
convenient  road  to  the  Garden  of  the  Hesperides,  whither 
I  am  going  to  get  three  of  the  golden  apples  for  King 
Eurystheus." 

"  Caitiff  I  ^  you  shall  go  no  farther  I  "  bellowed  Antaeus, 
putting  on  a  grimmer  look  than  before  ;  for  he  had  heard  of 
the  mighty  Hercules,  and  hated  him  because  he  was  said  to 
be  so  strong.    "  Neither  shall  you  go  back  whence  you  came." 

"  How  will  you  prevent  me,"  asked  Hercules,  "  from 
going  whither  I  please  ?  " 

"  By  hitting  you  a  rap  with  this  pine  tree  here,"  shouted 
Antseus,  scowling  so  that  he  made  himself  the  ugliest 
monster  in  Africa.  "  I  am  fifty  times  stronger  than  you ; 
and,  now  that  I  stamp  my  foot  upon  the  ground,  I  am  five 
hundred  times  stronger.  I  am  ashamed  to  kill  such  a  puny 
little  dwarf  as  you  seem  to  be.  I  will  make  a  slave  of  you, 
and  you  shall  likewise  be  the  slave  of  my  brethren  here, 
the  Pygmies.  So  throw  down  your  club  and  your  other 
weapons ;  and  as  for  that  lion's  skin,  I  intend  to  have  a 
pair  of  gloves  made  of  it." 

''  Come  and  take  it  off  my  shoulders,  then,"  answered 
Hercules,  lifting  his  club. 

Then  the  Giant,  grinning  with  rage,  strode  tower-like  to- 
wards the  stranger  (ten  times  strengthened  at  every  step),  and 
fetched  a  monstrous  blow  at  him  with  his  pine  tree,  which 
Hercules  caught  upon  his  club;  and  being  more  skillful 
than  Antaeus,  he  paid  him  back  such  a  rap  upon  the  sconce ^ 
that  down  tumbled  the  great  lumbering  man-mountain  flat 

^  cai'tiff,  a  mean,  wicked  person.  2  sconce,  the  head. 

3 — 5r 


18  A   FIFTH   READER. 


upon  tlie  ground.  The  poor  little  Pygmies  (who  really 
never  dreamed  that  anybody  in  the  world  was  half  so  strong 
as  their  brother  Antseus)  were  a  good  deal  dismayed  at  this. 
But  no  sooner  was  the  Giant  down  than  up  he  bounced 
again,  with  tenfold  might,  and  such  a  furious  visage  ^  as  was 
horrible  to  behold.  He  aimed  another  blow  at  Hercules, 
but  struck  awry,  being  blinded  with  wrath,  and  only  hit  his 
poor  innocent  Mother  Earth,  who  groaned  and  trembled  at 
the  stroke.  His  pine  tree  went  so  deep  into  the  ground,  and 
stuck  there  so  fast,  that,  before  Antaeus  could  get  it  out, 
Hercules  brought  down  his  club  across  his  shoulders  with  a 
mighty  thwack,  which  made  the  Giant  roar  as  if  all  sorts  of 
intolerable  ^  noises  had  come  screeching  and  rumbling  out 
of  his  immeasurable  lungs  in  that  one  cry.  Away  it  went, 
over  mountains  and  valleys,  and,  for  aught  I  know,  was 
heard  on  the  other  side  of  the  African  desertsi. 

As  for  the  Pygmies,  their  capital  city  was  laid  in  ruins 
by  the  concussion  ^  and  vibration  ^  of  the  air ;  and  though 
there  was  uproar  enough  without  their  help,  they  all  set  up 
a  shriek  out  of  three  millions  of  little  throats,  fancying,  no 
doubt,  that  they  swelled  the  Giant's  bellow  by  at  least  ten 
times  as  much.  Meanwhile,  Antaeus  had  scrambled  upon  his  ~ 
feet  again,  and  pulled  his  pine  tree  out  of  the  earth ;  and, 
all  aflame  with  fury,  and  more  outrageously  strong  than 
ever,  he  ran  at  Hercules  and  brought  down  another  blow. 
"This  time,  rascal,"  shouted  he,  "you  shall  not  escape  me  ! " 
But  once  more  Hercules  warded  off  the  stroke  with  his 
club,  and  the  Giant's  pine  tree  was  shattered  into  a  thou- 
sand splinters,  most  of  which  flew  among  the  Pygmies  and 

^  vis'age,  looks. 

2  in-torer-a-ble,  more  than  can  be  borne. 

8  con-cus'sion,  blow. 

*  vi-bra'tion,  shaking;  disturbance. 


THE  PYGMIES.  19 


did  them  more  mischief  than  I  like  to  think  about.  Before 
Antseus  could  get  out  of  the  way,  Hercules  let  drive  again, 
and  gave  him  another  knock-down  blow,  which  sent  him 
heels  over  head,  but  served  only  to  increase  his  already 
enormous  and  insufferable  strength.  As  for  his  rage,  there 
is  no  telling  what  a  fiery  furnace  it  had  now  got  to  be.  His 
one  eye  was  nothing  but  a  circle  of  red  flame.  Having  now 
no  weapons  but  his  fists,  he  doubled  them  up  (each  bigger 
than  a  hogshead),  smote  one  against  the  other,  and  danced 
up  and  down  with  absolute  frenzy,^  flourishing  his  immense 
arms  about  as  if  he  meant  not  merely  to  kill  Hercules,  but 
to  smash  the  whole  world  to  pieces. 

"  Come  on  !  '*  roared  this  thundering  Giant.  "  Let  me  hit 
you  but  one  box  on  the  ear,  and  you  '11  never  have  the 
headache  again." 

Now  Hercules  (though  strong  enough,  as  you  already  know, 
to  hold  the  sky  up)  began  to  be  sensible  that  he  should  never 
win  the  victory  if  he  kept  on  knocking  Antaeus  down ;  for 
by  and  by,  if  he  hit  him  such  hard  blows,  the  Giant  would 
inevitably,^  by  the  help  of  his  Mother  Earth,  become  stronger 
than  the  mighty  Hercules  himself.  So,  throwing  down  his 
club,  with  which  he  had  fought  so  many  dreadful  battles, 
the  hero  stood  ready  to  receive  his  antagonist  with  naked 
arms. 

"  Step  forward !  "  cried  he.  "  Since  I  Ve  broken  your 
pine  tree,  we  '11  try  which  is  the  better  man  at  a  wrestling- 
match." 

"  Aha !  then  I  '11  soon  satisfy  you,"  shouted  the  Giant ; 
for  if  there  was  one  thing  on  which  he  prided  himself  more 
than  another  it  was  his  skill  in  wrestling.     "  Villain,  I  '11 
fling  you  where  you  can  never  pick  yourself  up  again  ! " 
1  fren'zy,  madness.  2  in-ev'i-ta  bly,  surely. 


20  A  FIFTH   READEP. 


On  came  Antaeus,  hopping  and  capering  with  the  scorching 
heat  of  his  rage,  and  getting  new  vigor  wherewith  to  wreak 
his  passion  every  time  he  hopped.  But  Hercules,  you  must 
understand,  was  wiser  than  this  numskull  of  a  Giant,  and 
had  thought  of  a  way  to  fight  him,  —  huge  earth-born 
monster  that  he  was,  —  and  to  conquer  him  too,  in  spite  of 
all  that  his  Mother  Earth  could  do  for  him.  Watching  his 
opportunity  as  the  mad  Giant  made  a  rush  at  him,  Hercules 
caught  him  round  the  middle  with  both  hands,  lifted  him 
high  into  the  air,  and  held  him  aloft  overhead. 

Just  imagine  it,  my  dear  little  friends  !  What  a  spectacle 
it  must  have  been  to  see  this  monstrous  fellow  sprawling  in 
the  air,  face  downward,  kicking  out  his  long  legs  and  wrig- 
ling  his  whole  vast  body,  like  a  baby  when  its  father  holds 
it  at  arm's  length  towards  the  ceiling ! 

But  the  most  wonderful  thing  was,  that,  as  soon  as 
Antaeus  was  fairly  off  the  earth,  he  began  to  lose  the  vigor 
which  he  had  gained  by  touching  it.  Hercules  very  soon 
perceived  that  his  troublesome  enemy  was  growing  weaker, 
both  because  he  struggled  and  kicked  with  less  violence, 
and  because  the  thunder  of  his  big  voice  subsided^  into  a 
grumble.  The  truth  was,  that,  unless  the  Giant  touched 
Mother  Earth  as  often  as  once  in  five  minutes,  not  only  his 
overgrown  strength  but  the  very  breath  of  his  life  would 
depart  from  him.  Hercules  had  guessed  this  secret ;  and  it 
may  be  well  for  us  all  to  remember  it,  in  case  we  should 
ever  have  to  fight  a  battle  with  a  fellow  like  Antaeus.  For 
these  earth-born  creatures  are  only  difficult  to  conquer  on 
their  own  ground,  but  may  easily  be  managed  if  we  can 
contrive  to  lift  them  into  a  loftier  and  purer  region.  So  it 
proved  with  the  poor  Giant,  whom  I  am  really  a  little  sorry 
1  sub  si'ded,  grew  quiet. 


THE    PYGMIES.  SI 


for,  notwithstanding  his  uncivil  way  of  treating  strangers 
who  came  to  visit  him. 

When  liis  strength  and  breath  were  quite  gone,  Hercules 
gave  his  huge  body  a  toss,  and  flung  it  about  a  mile  off, 
where  it  fell  heavily  and  lay  with  no  more  motion  than  a 
sandhill.  It  was  too  late  for  the  Giant's  Mother  Earth  to 
help  him  now ;  and  I  should  not  wonder  if  his  ponderous 
bones  were  lying  on  the  same  spot  to  this  very  day,  and  were 
mistaken  for  those  of  an  uncommonly  large  elephant. 

CHAPTER  III. 

BUT,  alas  me  !  what  a  wailing  did  the  poor  little  Pygmies 
set  up  when  they  saw  their  enormous  brother  treated 
in  this  terrible  manner !  If  Hercules  heard  their  shrieks, 
however,  he  took  no  notice,  and  perhaps  fancied  them  only 
the  shrill,  plaintive  twittering  of  small  birds  that  had  been 
frightened  from  their  nests  by  the  uproar  of  the  battle 
between  himself  and  Antaeus.  Indeed,  his  thoughts  had 
been  so  much  taken  up  with  the  Giant  that  he  had  never 
once  looked  at  the  Pygmies,  nor  even  knew  that  there  was 
such  a  funny  little  nation  in  the  world.  And  now,  as  he 
had  traveled  a  good  way,  and  was  also  rather  weary  with 
his  exertions  in  the  fight,  he  spread  out  his  lion's  skin  on 
the  ground,  and  reclining  himself  upon  it,  fell  fast  asleep. 

As  soon  as  the  Pygmies  saw  Hercules  preparing  for  a  nap, 
they  nodded  their  little  heads  at  one  another,  and  winked 
with  their  little  eyes.  And  when  his  deep,  regular  breath- 
ing gave  them  notice  that  he  was  asleep,  they  assembled 
together  in  an  immense  crowd,  spreading  over  a  space  of 
about  twenty-seven  feet  square.  One  of  their  most  eloquent 
orators  (and  a  valiant  warrior  enough  besides,  though  hardly 


22  A   FIFTH   READER. 

SO  good  at  any  other  weapon  as  he  was  with  his  tongue) 
climbed  upon  a  toadstool,  and  from  that  elevated  position 
addressed  the  multitude.  His  sentiments  were  pretty  much 
as  follows ;  or,  at  all  events,  something  like  this  was  proba- 
bly the  upshot  of  his  speech :  — 

"  Tall  Pygmies,  and  mighty  little  men :  You  and  all  of 
us  have  seen  what  a  public  calamity  has  been  brought  to 
pass,  and  what  an  insult  has  here  been  offered  to  the  majesty 
of  our  nation.  Yonder  lies  Antaeus,  our  great  friend  and 
brother,  slain  within  our  territory  by  a  miscreant^  who 
took  him  at  a  disadvantage,  and  fought  him  (if  fighting  it 
can  be  called)  in  a  way  that  neither  man  nor  Giant  nor 
Pygmy  ever  dreamed  of  fighting  until  this  hour.  And,  add- 
ing a  grievous  contumely  ^  to  the  wrong  already  done  us, 
the  miscreant  has  now  fallen  asleep  as  quietly  as  if  nothing 
were  to  be  dreaded  from  our  wrath !  It  behooves  you, 
fellow  countrymen,  to  consider  in  what  aspect  we  shall 
stand  before  the  world,  and  what  will  be  the  verdict^  of 
impartial  history,  should  we  suffer  these  accumulated  *  out- 
rages to  go  unavenged. 

"  Antaeus  was  our  brother,  born  of  that  same  beloved 
parent  to  whom  we  owe  the  thews  and  sinews,  as  well  as 
|h.e  courageous  hearts,  which  made  him  proud  of  our  relation- 
Mp. '  He  was  our  faithful  ally,  and  fell  fighting  as  much 
for  our  national  rights  and  immunities  as  for  his  own  per- 
sonal ones.  We  and  our  forefathers  have  dwelt  in  friend- 
ship with  him,  and  held  affectionate  intercourse,  aS  man  to 
man,  through  immemorial  generations.  You  remember  how 
often  our  entire  people  have  reposed  in  his  great  shadow, 
and  how  our  little  ones  have  played  at  hide-and-seek  in  the 

^  mis'creant,  wrong  doer.  ^  ver'dict,  decision. 

2  con'tu-me-ly,  insult.  "*  accu'mu-la-ted,  \)\U'd  up. 


THE    PYGMIES.  23 


tangles  of  his  hair,  and  how  his  mighty  footsteps  have 
familiarly  gone  to  and  fro  among  us  and  never  trodden 
upon  any  of  our  toes.  And  there  lies  this  dear  brother, 
this  sweet  and  amiable  friend,  this  brave  and  faithful  ally, 
this  virtuous  Giant,  this  blameless  and  excellent  Antaeus,  — 
dead !  Dead !  Silent !  Powerless  !  A  mere  mountain  of 
clay !  Forgive  my  tears  I  Nay,  I  behold  your  own ! 
Were  we  to  drown  the  world  with  them,  could  the  world 
blame  us  ? 

"  But  to  resume  :  Shall  we,  my  countrymen,  suffer  this 
wicked  stranger  to  depart  unharmed,  and  triumph  in  his 
treacherous  victory  among  distant  communities  of  the 
earth  ?  Shall  we  not  rather  compel  him  to  leave  his  bones 
here  on  our  soil,  by  the  side  of  our  slain  brother's  bones,  so 
that,  while  one  skeleton  shall  remain  as  the  everlasting 
monument  of  our  sorrow,  the  other  shall  endure  as  long, 
exhibiting  to  the  whole  human  race  a  terrible  example  of 
Pygmy  vengeance  ?  Such  is  the  question.  I  put  it  to  you 
in  full  confidence  of  a  response  that  shall  be  Avorthy  of  our 
national  character  and  calculated  to  increase,  rather  than 
diminish,  the  glory  which  our  ancestors  have  transmitted jto 
us,  and  which  we  ourselves  have  proudly  vindicated  in  our 
warfare  with  the  cranes." 

The  orator  was  here  interrupted  by  a  burst  of  irrepressi- 
ble 1  enthusiasm,  —  every  individual  Pygmy  crying  out  that 
the  national  honor  must  be  preserved  at  all  hazards.  He 
bowed,  and  making  a  gesture  for  silence,  wound  up  his 
harangue  ^  in  the  following  admirable  manner  :  — 

"  It  only  remains  for  us,  then,  to  decide  whether  we  shall 
carry  on  the  war  in  our  national  capacity,  —  one  united 
people    against    a    common    enemy,  —  or    Avhether    some 

^  ir-re-pressl-ble,  that  cannot  be  controlled.         -  ha-rangue',  speech. 


24  A   FIFTH    READER. 


champion  famous  in  former  fights  shall  be  selected  to 
defy  the  slayer  of  our  brother  Antseus  to  single  combat. 
In  the  latter  case,  though  not  unconscious  that  there  may  be 
taller  men  among  you,  I  hereby  offer  myself  for  that  envi- 
able duty.  And  believe  me,  dear  countrymen,  whether  I 
live  or  die,  thie  honor  of  this  great  country  and  the  fame 
bequeathed  ^  us  by  our  heroic  progenitors  ^  shall  suffer  no 
diminution  *  in  my  hands,  —  never,  while  I  can  wield  this 
sword,  of  which  I  now  fling  away  the  scabbard;  never, 
never,  never,  —  even  if  the  crimson  hand  that  slew  the  great 
Antaeus  shall  lay  me  prostrate,  like  him,  on  the  soil  which 
I  give  my  life  to  defend  I  " 

So  saying,  this  valiant  Pygmy  drew  out  his  weapon 
(which  was  terrible  to  behold,  being  as  long  as  the  blade  of 
a  penknife),  and  sent  the  scabbard  whirling  over  the  heads 
of  the  multitude.  His  speech  was  followed  by  an  uproar  of 
applause,  as  its  patriotism  and  self-devotion  unquestionably 
deserved  ;  and  the  shouts  and  clapping  of  hands  would  have 
been  greatly  prolonged  had  they  not  been  rendered  quite 
inaudible*  by  a  deep  respiration,  vulgarly  called  a  snore, 
from  the  sleeping  Hercules. 

It  was  finally  decided  IKat  the  whole  nation  of  Pygmies 
should  set  to  work  to  destroy  Hercules  ;  not,  be  it  under- 
stood, from  any  doubt  that  a  single  champion  would  be 
capable  of  putting  him  to  the  sword,  but  because  he  was  a 
public  enemy,  and  all  were  desirous  of  sharing  in  the  glory 
of  his  defeat.  There  was  a  debate  whether  the  national 
honor  did  not  demand  that  a  herald  should  be  sent  with  a 

'  bequeathed',  left  by  will. 

2  pro-gen'i-tora,  forefathers ;  that  is,  grandfathers,  great-graiul- 
fathers,  etc. 

^  dim-i-nu'tion,  falling  off.         "*  in-au'di-ble,  that  cannot  be  heard. 


THE    PYGMIES.  25 


trumpet,  to  stand  over  the  ear  of  Hercules,  and,  after  blowing 
a  blast  right  into  it,  to  defy  him  to  the  combat  by  formal 
proclamation.  But  two  or  three  venerable^  and  sagacious ^ 
Pygmies,  well  versed  in  state  affairs,  gave  it  as  their  opinion 
that  war  already  existed,  and  that  it  was  their  rightful 
privilege  to  take  the  enemy  by  surprise.  Moreover,  if 
awakened,  and  allowed  to  get  upon  his  feet,  Hercules  might 
happen  to  do  them  a  mischief  before  he  could  be  beaten  down 
again.  For,  as  these  sage  counselors  remarked,  the  stranger's 
club  was  really  very  big,  and  had  rattled  like  a  thunderbolt 
against  the  skull  of  Antaeus.  So  the  Pygmies  resolved  to 
set  aside  all  foolish  punctilios,^  and  assail  their  antagonist 
at  once. 

Accordingly,  all  the  fighting  men  of  the  nation  took  their 
weapons  and  went  boldly  up  to  Hercules,  who  still  lay  fast 
asleep,  little  dreaming  of  the  harm  which  the  Pygmies  meant 
to  do  him.  A  body  of  twenty  thousand  archers  marched  in 
front,  with  their  little  bows  all  ready,  and  the  arrows  on  the 
string.  The  same  number  were  ordered  to  clamber  upon 
Hercules,  —  some  with  spades  to  dig  his  eyes  out,  and  others 
with  bundles  of  hay  and  all  manner  of  rubbish  with  which 
they  intended  to  plug  up  his  mouth  and  nostrils  so  that  he 
might  perish  for  lack  of  breath.  These  last,  however,  could 
by  no  means  perform  their  appointed  duty,  inasmuch  as  the 
enemy's  breath  rushed  out  of  his  nose  in  an  obstreperous  ^ 
hurricane  and  whirlwind,  which  blew  the  Pygmies  away  as 
fast  as  they  came  nigh.  It  was  found  necessary,  therefore, 
to  hit  upon  some  other  method  of  carrying  on  the  war. 

^  ven'er-a-ble,  worthy  of  respect  because  of  age. 
^  sa-ga'cious,  wise;  shrewd. 
3  punc-tLl'ios,  fine  points  about  rules  of  conduct. 
^  ob-strep'er-ous,  troublesome. 


26  A   FIFTH    READER. 

After  holding  a  council  the  captains  ordered  their  troops 
to  collect  sticks,  straws,  dry  weeds,  and  whatever  combusti- 
ble stuff  they  could  find,  and  make  a  pile  of  it,  heaping  it 
high  around  the  head  of  Hercules.  As  a  great  many  thou- 
sand Pygmies  were  employed  in  this  task,  they  soon  brought 
together  several  bushels  of  inflammatory  matter,  and  raised 
so  tall  a  heap  that,  mounting  on  its  summit,  they  were  quite 
upon  a  level  with  the  sleeper's  face.  The  archers,  mean- 
while, were  stationed  within  bowshot,  with  orders  to  let  fly 
at  Hercules  the  instant  that  he  stirred.  Everything  being 
in  readiness,  a  torch  was  applied  to  the  pile,  which  imme- 
diately bui-st  into  flames,  and  soon  waxed  hot  enough  to 
roast  the  enemy,  had  he  but  chosen  to  lie  still.  A  Pygmy, 
you  know,  though  so  very  small,  might  set  the  world  on  fire 
just  as  easily  as  a  Giant  could,  so  that  this  was  certainly  the 
very  best  way  of  dealing  with  their  foe,  provided  they  could 
have  kept  him  quiet  while  the  conflagration  was  going 
forward. 

But  no  sooner  did  Hercules  begin  to  be  scorched  than  up 
he  started,  with  his  hair  in  a  red  blaze. 

"What's  all  this?"  he  cried,  bewildered  with  sleep,  and 
staring  about  him  as  if  he  expected  to  see  another  Giant. 

At  that  moment  the  twenty  thousand  archers  twanged 
their  bowstrings,  and  the  arrows  came  whizzing  like  so  many 
winged  mosquitoes  right  into  thelface  of  Hercules.  But  I 
doubt  whether  more  than  half  a  dozen  of  them  pufictured  the 
skin,  which  was  remarkably  tough,  as  you  know  the  skin  of 
a  hero  has  good  need  to  be. 

"  Villain  !  "  shouted  all  the  Pygmies  at  once,  "  you  have 
killed  the  Giant  Antaeus,  our  great  !)rother,  and  the  ally 
of  our  nation.  We  declare  bloody  war  against  you  and 
will  slay  you  on  the  spot." 


THE    PYGMIES. 


27 


Surprised  at  the  shrill  piping  of  so  many  little  voices, 
Hercules,  after  putting  out  the  conflagration  ^  of  his  hair, 
gazed  all  round  about,  but  could  see  nothing.  At  last,  how- 
ever, looking  narrowly  on  the  ground,  he  espied  the  innu- 
merable assemblage  of  Pygmies  at  his  feet.  He  stooped 
down,  and  taking  up 
the  nearest  one  be- 
tween his  thumb  and 
finger,  set  him  on 
the  palm  of  his  left 
hand  and  held  him 
at  a  proper  distance 
for  examination.  It 
chanced  to  be  the 
very  identical  Pyg- 
my who  had  spoken 
from  the  top  of  the 
toadstool  and  had 
offered  himself  as  a 
champion  to  meet 
Hercules  in  single 
combat. 

"What     in     the 
world,  my  little  fellow,"  ejaculated ^   Hercules,   "may  you 
be?" 

"  I  am  your  enemy,"  answered  the  valiant  Pygmy,  in  his 
mightiest  squeak.  "  You  have  slain  the  enormous  Antaeus, 
our  brother  by  the  mother's  side,  and  for  ages  the  faithful 
ally  of  our  illustrious  nation.  We  are  determined  to  put 
you  to  death,  and  for  my  own  part  I  challenge  you  to  instant 
battle,  on  equal  ground." 

1  con-fla-gra'tion,  fire.  2  e-jac'u-la-ted,  cried  out. 


^^)/A'iM] 


28  A   FIFTH    READER. 


Hercules  was  so  tickled  with  the  Pygmy's  big  words  and 
warlike  gestures  that  he  burst  into  a  great  explosion  of 
laughter,  and  almost  dropped  the  poor  little  mite  of  a  crea- 
ture off  the  palm  of  his  hand  through  the  ecstasy  ^  and  con- 
vulsion 2  of  his  merriment. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  cried  he, ''  I  thought  I  had  seen  wonders 
before  to-day,  —  hydras  with  nine  heads,  stags  with  golden 
horns,  six-legged  men,  three-headed  dogs,  giants  with  fur- 
naces in  their  stomachs,^  —  and  nobody  knows  what  besides. 
But  here,  on  the  palm  of  my  hand,  stands  a  wonder  that 
outdoes  them  all.  Your  body,  my  little  friend,  is  about 
the  size  of  an  ordinary  man's  finger.  Pray,  how  big  may 
your  soul  be  ?  " 

"  As  big  as  your  own,"  said  the  Pygmy. 

Hercules  was  touched  with  the  little  man's  dauntless  cour- 
age, and  could  not  help  acknowledging  such  a  brotherhood 
with  him  as  one  hero  feels  for  another. 

"  My  good  little  people,"  said  he,  making  a  low  obeisance  * 
to  the  grand  nation,  "  not  for  all  the  world  would  I  do  an  inten- 
tional injury  to  such  brave  fellows  as  you.  Your  hearts  seem 
to  me  so  exceedingly  great  that,  upon  my  honor,  I  marvel 
how  your  small  bodies  can  contain  them.  I  sue  for  peace, 
and,  as  a  condition  of  it,  will  take  five  strides  and  be  out  of 
your  kingdom  at  the  sixth.  Good-by.  I.  shall  pick  my 
steps  carefully,  for  fear  of  treading  upon  some  fifty  of  you 
without  knowing  it.  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Ho!  ho!  ho!  For 
once  Hercules  acknowledges  himself  vanquished ! " 

Some  writers  say  that  Hercules  gathered  up  the  whole 
race  of  Pygmies  in  his  lion's  skin  and  carried  them  home  to 

^  ec'sta-sy,  ^reat  joy.  ^  con-vul'sion,  spasm. 

8  Hercules,  according  to  tlie  ancient  stories,  overcame  many  mon- 
sters such  as  those  mentioned  here,  *  o-bei'sance,  low  bow. 


THE    OWL    CRITIC. 


29 


Greece  for  the  children  of  King  Eurystheus  to  play  with. 
But  this  is  a  mistake.  He  left  them,  one  and  all,  within 
their  own  territory;  where,  for  aught  I  can  tell,  their  de- 
scendants are  alive  to  the  present  day,  building  their  little 
houses,  cultivating  their  little  fields,  spanking  their  little 
children,  waging  their  little  warfare  with  the  cranes,  doing 
their  little  business,  whatever  it  may  be,  and  reading  their 
little  histories  of  -ancient  times.  In  those  histories,  perhaps, 
it  stands  recorded  that  a  great  many  centuries  ago  the  val- 
iant Pygmies  avenged  the  death  of  the  Giant  Antseus  by 
scaring  away  the  mighty  Hercules. 

From  "  The  Wonder  Book." 


III.     THE   OWL  CRITIC. 

By  James  T.  Fields. 

"\T7H0   stuffed  that  white  owl?" 

»  ^       No  one  spoke  in  the  shop ; 
The  barber  was  busy,  and  he  couldn't 

stop  ; 
The    customers,    waiting    their    turns, 

were  all  reading, 
The  "Daily,"  the  "Herald,"  the  "Post," 
^  little  heeding 

The  young  man  who  blurted  out  such 

a  blunt  question; 
Not  one  raised  a  head,  or  even  made 
a  suggestion; 
And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 


30  A   FIFTH   READER. 

"  Do  n't  you  see,  Mister  Brown,"' 

Cried  the  youth  with  a  frown, 

"How  wrong  the  whole  thing  is, 

How  preposterous  ^  each  wing  is. 

How  flattened  the  head  is,  how  jammed  down  the  neck  is,  — 

In  short,  the  whole  owl,  what  an  ignorant  wreck  'tis? 

I  make  no  apology, 

I  've  learned  owl-eology, 

I  've  passed  days  and  nights  in  a  hundred  collections, 

And  cannot  be  blinded  to  any  deflections  ^ 

Arising  from  unskillful  fingers  that  fail 

To  stuff  a  bird  right,  from  his  beak  to  his  tail. 

Mister  Brown  !     Mister  Brown  ! 

Do  take  that  bird  down. 

Or  you  '11  be  the  laughing-stock  all  over  town ! " 

And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 

"  I  've  studied  owls, 

And  other  night  fowls, 

And  I  tell  you 

What  I  know  to  be  true : 

An  owl  cannot  roost 

With  his  limbs  so  unloosed ; 

No  owl  in  the  world 

Ever  had  his  claws  curled, 

Ever  had  his  legs  slanted. 

Ever  had  his  bill  canted, 

Ever  had  his  neck  screwed 

Into  that  attitude. 

He  can't  do  it,  because 

'Tis  against  all  bird  laws. 

1  pre-pos'ter-ouB,  absurd.        ^  de  flec'tiona,  changes;  turnings. 


THE    OWL    CRITIC.  81 


Anatomy^  teaches, 
Ornithology  ^  preaches, 
An  owl  has  a  toe 
That  can't  turn  out  so ! 

I  Ve  made  the  white  owl  my  study  for  years. 
And  to  see  such  a  job  almost  moves  me  to  tears ! 
Mister  Brown,  I  'm  amazed 
You  should  be  so  gone  crazed 
As  to  put  up  a  bird 
In  that  posture  ^  absurd ! 

To  look  at  that  owl  really  brings  on  a  dizziness ; 
The  man  who  stuffed  him  do  n't  half  know  his  business." 

And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 

''  Examine  those  eyes ! 

I  'm  filled  with  surprise 

Taxidermists*  shoul4  pass 

Off  on  you  such  poor  glass  ; 

So  unnatural  they  seem 

They  'd  make  Audubon  scream. 

And  John  Burroughs^  laugh 

To  encounter  such  chaff. 

Do  take  that  bird  down  I 

Have  him  stuffed  again,  Brown ! " 

And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 

"With  some  sawdust  and  bark 
I  could  stuff  in  the  dark 

1  a-nat'o-my,  the  structure  of  the  body. 

2  or-ni-thol'o-gy,  the  study  of  birds. 
^  pos'ture,  position. 

^  taz'i-der-mists,  those  who  stuff  and  mount  skins  of  animals. 

^  John  Burroughs,  a  distinguished  naturaUst  and  writer  upon  nature. 


32  A   FIFTH   READER. 


An  owl  better  than  that. 

I  could  make  an  old  hat 

Look  more  like  an  owl 

Than  that  horrid  fowl, 

Stuck  up  there  so  stiff  like  a  side  of  coai*se  leather. 

In  fact,  about  him  there's  not  one  natural  feather." 

Just  then,  with  a  wink  and  a  sly  normal  lurch. 

The  owl,  very  gravely,  got  down  from  his  perch, 

Walked  round,  and  regarded  his  fault-finding  critic 

(Who  thought  he  was  stuffed)  with  a  glance  analytic. 

And  then  fairly  hooted,  as  if  he  should  say, 

"  Your  learning 's  at  fault  this  time,  any  way ; 

Don't  waste  it  again  on  a  live  bird,  I  pray. 

I  'm  an  owl ;   you  're  another.     Sir  Critic,  good-day ! " 

And  the  barber  kept  on  shaving. 


IV.     JOHNMAYNARD. 

By  John  B.  Gougii.^ 

JOHN  MAYNARD  was  pilot  of  the  steamer  "Ocean 
Queen,"  which  plied  on  Lake  Erie  between  Buffalo  and 
Detroit.  He  was  well  known  as  an  honest,  intelligent 
man ;  and  now  the  time  came  when  he  was  to  prove  him- 
self as  true  a  hero  as  ever  lived. 

One  bright  midsummer  day,  as  the  "  Ocean  Queen  "  was 
steaming  towards  Buffalo,  smoke  was  seen  ascending  from 

1  John   Bartholomew   Gough  (1817-1886)  was  a  man  who  did 

great  good  in  the  world.  When  quite  a  young  man,  he  fell  a  victim  to 
the  evil  habit  of  drunkenness;  but  later  he  reformed,  and  for. the 
rest  of  his  life  tried  to  save  others  who  were  the  victims  of  the  same 
habit. 


JOHN    MAYNARD.  33 


below.  Tlie  captain  at  once  directed  the  mate,  Simpson,  to 
go  down  and  see  what  caused  the  smoke.  Presently  the 
officer  returned,  his  face  pale  as  ashes,  and  whispered,  ''  Cap- 
tain, the  ship  is  on  fire  I " 

The  terrible  tidings  quickly  spread  among  the  passengers, 
of  whom  there  were  more  than  a  hundred.  *'  The  ship  is  on 
fire  !  "  they  uttered  with  blanched  lips.  "  The  ship  is  on 
fire !  " 

The  captain  was  a  cool,  self-possessed  man.  Having 
called  up  all  hands,  he  issued  quick,  sharp  orders.  Buckets 
of  water  were  dashed  upon  the  fire  ;  but  as  the  steamer  car- 
ried a  large  quantity  of  rosin  and  tar,  the  flames  spread  so 
quickly  that  all  effort  to  extinguish  them  was  vain.  'J'o 
add  to  the  horror  of  the  situation,  the  lake  steamers  at  that 
time  seldom  carried  boats.    The  "  Ocean  Queen  "  had  none. 

The  passengers  rushed  to  the  pilot,  and  anxiously  asked, 
"How  far  are  we  from  Buffalo  ?  " 

"  Seven  miles." 

"  How  long  before  we  can  reach  it  ?  " 

"  Three  quarters  of  an  hour,  at  our  present  rate  of  speed." 

*'Is  there  any  danger?" 

"Danger  here.  See  the  smoke  bursting  out!  Go  for- 
ward, if  you  would  save  your  lives !  " 

Passengers  and  crew  —  men,  women,  and  children  — 
crowded  the  forward  part  of  the  ship.  John  Maynard 
stood  at  the  wheel. 

The  flames  burst  forth  in  a  sheet  of  fire  ;  clouds  of  smoke 
arose. 

The  captain  shouted  through  his  trumpet,  "  John  May- 
nard !  " 

"Ay,  ay,  sir!" 

"  Are  you  at  the  helm  ?  " 


34  A   FIFTH   READER. 


"  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  " 

"  How  does  she  head  ?  " 

"  Southeast  by  east,  sir !  " 

"  Head  her  southeast,  and  run  her  on  shore  !  " 

Nearer,  and  nearer  yet  she  approached  the  shore.  Again 
the  captain  cried  out,  "  John  Maynard  !  " 

The  response  came  feebly,  "  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  " 

"  Can  you  hokl  out  five  minutes  longer,  John  ?  " 

"  By  God's  help  I  will !  " 

The  old  man's  hair  was  scorched  from  the  scalp :  one 
hand  disabled,  his  knee  upon  the  stanchion,^  and  his  teeth 
set,  with  his  other  hand  upon  the  wheel,  he  stood  firm  as 
a  rock. 

He  beached  the  ship ;  every  man,  woman,  and  child  was 
sayed  as  John  Maynard  dropped,  and  his  spirit  took  flight 
to  its  God. 


Adapted. 


V.     THE  FIRST  SNOWFALL. 

By  James  Russell  Lowell.  ' 

'"pHE  snow  had  begun  in  the  gloaming, 
A       And  busily  all  the  night 
Had  been  heaping  field  and  highway 
With  a  silence  deep  and  white. 

Every  pine  and  fir  and  hemlock 
Wore  ermine  too  dear  for  an  earl, 

And  the  poorest  twig  on  the  elm  tree 
Was  ridged  inch-deep  ;with   pearl. 

^  stan'chion,  an  upright  timber  wliich  supports  flie  (]o('k. 


THE    FIRST    SNOWFALL.  35 


From  sheds  new-roofed  with  Carrara  ^ 
Came  Chanticleer's  muffled  crow; 

The  stiff  rails  were  softened  to  swan's-down, 
And  still  fluttered  down  the  snow. 

I  stood  and  watched  by  the  window 

The  noiseless  work  of  the  sky, 
And  the  sudden  flurries  of  snowbirds, 

Like  brown  leaves  whirling  by. 

I  thought  of  a  mound  in  sweet  Auburn 

Where  a  little  headstone  stood; 
How  the  flakes  were  folding  it  gently 

As  did  robins  the  babes  in  the  wood. 

Up  spoke  our  own  little  Mabel, 

Saying,  "  Father,  who  makes  it  snow  ? " 

And  I  told  of  the  good  All-father 
Who  cares  for  us  here  below. 

Again  I  looked  at  the  snowfall, 

And  thought  of  the  leaden  sky 
That  arched  o'er  our  first  great  sorrow. 

When  the  mound  was  heaped  so  high. 

I  remembered  the  gradual  patience 
That  fell  from  that  cloud  like  snow, 

Flake  by  flake,  healing  and  hiding 
The  scar  that  renewed  our  woe. 

And  again,  to  the  child  I  whispered, 
"  The  snow  that  husheth  all, 

^  Car-ra'ra,  a  valuable  marble,  named  from  the  place  where  the 
quarry  is  situated. 


36  A   FIFTH   READER. 


Darling,  the  merciful  Father 
Alone  can  make  it  fall." 

Then,  with  eyes  that  saw  not,  I  kissed  her; 

And  she,  kissing  back,  could  not  know 
That  my  kiss  was  given  to  her  sister. 

Folded  close  under  deepening  snow. 


VI.     WRITING. 

READING  and  writing  are  twin  arts.  Man  is  supposed 
to  be  the  only  animal  possessing  a  definite  ^  and  com- 
plete ^  language.  Originally,  man  could  communicate  his 
thought  to  his  immediate^  neighbor  by  means  of  language, 
but  could  not  send  it  to  one  remote,'^  nor  could  he  transmit  ^ 
it  to  those  who  should  live  after  him.  So  men  early  de- 
vised ^  means  for  the  retention "'  and  transmission  ^  of  their 
ideas.  These  means  are  called  symbols.  A  symbol  is  a 
sign  which  stands  for  an  idea ;  so  that,  when  one  sees  a 
symbol,  he  knows  the  thought  for  which  it  stands.  The 
earliest  symbols  of  thought  were  rude  pictures,  such  as 
savages  in  nearly  all  ages  and  countries  have  made  use 
of,  —  pictures  describing  events.  This  was  a  very_slow  and 
unsatisfactory  way  of  communicating^  thought,  and  so 
shorter  symbols  were  made.     In  the  first  place  they  were 

^  definite,  fixed. 

2  complete',  full ;  containing  everything  necessary. 

8  im-me'di-ate,  near.  o  de-vised',  worked  out. 

*  re-mote',  far  away.  "^  re-ten'tion,  keeping. 

*  trans-mit',  send  ;  give  to  another.  "  trans-mis'sion,  giving  to  others. 

9  com-mu'ni-cat-ing,  making  conmion  ;  imparting  to  others. 


READING.  37 


abbreviated  ^  pictures,  and  were  called  "  hieroglyphics." 
These  were  inscribed  ^  upon  stone  or  clay,  and  explorers 
in  the  far  East  to-day  find  whole  libraries  of  books  made 
of  clay  covered  with  hieroglyphic  characters  telling  of  the 
battles,  and  victories  of  kings,  and  of  other  important  events. 
Some  of  you  may  have  seen  the  obelisk  ^  in  Central  Park, 
New  York,  which  is  covered  with  such  records. 

This,  too,  was  a  slow  and  tedious  way  of  recording 
thought;  so,  in  time,  a  people  living  in  Phoenicia,  at  the 
eastern  end  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea,  invented  an  alphabet, 
or  system  of  letters,  by  which  words  could  be  represented, 
and  all  civilized  people  have  used  alphabets  ever  since  in 
recording  their  thoughts.  But  it  took  many,  many  hundred 
years  for  men  to  perfect  a  system  which  we  now  use  so 
freely,  and  of  which  we  sometimes  think  so  little. 


VII.     READING. 

READING  is  the  twin  sister  of  writing.  It  is  the  inter- 
pretation^ of  symbols,  either  for  ourselves  or  for 
others.  One  who  can  read  looks  at  a  symbol,  or  a  series  ^  of 
symbols,  as  a  page  of  printing  or  writing,  and  understands 
the  thought  which  the  writer  intended  the  symbols  to  ex- 
press. Then,  if  he  is  reading  aloud,  he  speaks  the  words 
which  the  writer  has  put  down.  Hence,  there  are  two  ele- 
ments ^  in  good  reading :  one,  understanding  the  thought  that 
is  written ;  and  the  other,  speaking  it  plainly.     No  reader 

^  ab-bre'vi-at-ed,  shortened  ;   made  smaller. 

2  in-scribed',  written  on. 

3  ob'e-lisk,  a  stone  monument  such  as  was  made  in  ancient  Egypt. 
*  in-ter-pre-ta'tion,  making  plain. 

^  se'ries,  row ;  succession.  ^  ere-ments,  parts. 


38  A   FIFTH   READER. 


should  attempt  to  read  aloud  until  he  himself  fully  under- 
stands what  he  is  reading,  and  tlien  he  should  use  every 
effort  to  make  it  plain  to  those  who  are  listening.  To  do 
this,  it  is  necessary  that  he  speak  as  if  the  thoughts  were 
his  own  and  he  were  telling  them  to  his  hearers.  He  must 
be  careful  to  speak  loud  enough  to  be  heard,  and  to  pro- 
nounce all  words  clearly. 

Words  are  made  up  of  vowels  and  consonants.  Some 
people  speak  the  consonants  plainly,  but  neglect  the  vowels. 
Others  speak  the  vowels  plainly,  but  are  careless  about  the 
consonants.  Vowels  are  sounds  made  by  the  breath,  and 
modified  by  the  shape  of  the  mouth.  In  sounding  them,  the 
breath  is  allowed  to  pass  out  of  the  mouth  freely.  The  con- 
sonants are  made  by  the  position  of  the  palate,  teeth,  tongue, 
and  lips,  and  in  most  of  them  the  breath  is  stopped  while 
passing  out.  The  vowels  are  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  and  y.  Pronounce 
them,  and  you  will  see  that  you  can  continue  to  sound  them 
as  long  as  your  breath  lasts,  —  all  excepting  the  long  sound 
of  i  and  y,  which  is  really  made  up  of  two  sounds. 

The  consonant  elements  are :  — 

Made  by  lips,  —  p,  h,  w,  m  ; 

Made  by  lips  and  teeth,  — /,  v  ; 

Made  by  tongue  and  teeth,  — r  th  ; 

Made  by  tongue  and  hard  and  soft  palate,  —  t,  d,  s,  z,  r,  77, 
/,  k,  g,  h,  I,  y,  ch,  sh,  zL 

So  you  see  that  in  reading  you  must  be  careful  of  your 
tongue,  palate,  teeth,  and  lips,  and  of  your  breath.  But  you 
do  not  need  to  think  of  all  tlicse  unless  you  find  that  you 
do  not  use  one  of  them  properly ;  then  think  about  that  and 
try  to  use  it  properly,  until  you  have  corrected  the  fault. 
For  the  art  of  reading  well  is  a  beautiful  art,  and  through  it 
you  can  give  much  pleasure  to  your  friends. 


A    LEGEND    OF    BREGENZ.  39 


VIII.     A   LEGEND   OF    BREGENZ.^ 

By  Adelaide  Anne  Procter. 2 

GIRT  round  with  rugged  mountains 
The  fair  Lake  Constance  ^  lies ; 
In  her  blue  heart  reflected, 

Shine  back  the  starry  skies  ; 
And,  watching  each  white  cloudlet 

Float  silently  and  slow, 
You  think  a  piece  of  Heaven 
Lies  on  our  earth  below  ! 

Midnight  is  there  :  and  Silence, 

Enthroned  in  Heaven,  looks  down 
Upon  her  own  calm  mirror, 

Upon  a  sleeping  town : 
For  Bregenz,  that  quaint  city 

Upon  the  Tyrol  ^  shore. 
Has  stood  above  Lake  Constance 

A  thousand  years  and  more. 

Her  battlements  and  towers. 

From  off  their  rocky  steep, 
Have  cast  their  trembling  shadow 

For  ages  on  the  deep. 

1  Bre-gena  (Bra-ghents),   a  city  in  Austria-Hungary. 

2  Adelaide  Anne  Procter  (1825-1864)  was  the  daughter  of 
Bryan  Waller  Procter  ("Barry  Cornwall"),  and  wrote  poems  equal 
to  her  father's.     "A  Legend  of  Bregenz"  is  among  her  best. 

8  Con'stance,  a  lake,  famous  for  its  beauty,  lying  between  Switzer- 
land, Austria-Hungary,  and  Germany. 

4  Tyr'ol,  a  mountainous  province  in  Austria-Hungary. 


40  A  FIFTH  READER. 


Mountain  and  lake  and  valley 

A  sacred  legend  know, 
Of  how  the  town  was  saved  one  night 

Three  hundred  years  ago. 

Far  from' her  home  and  kindred 

A  Tyrol  maid  had  fled, 
To  serve  in  the  Swiss  valleys, 

And  toil  for  daily  bread  ; 
And  every  year  that  fleeted 

So  silently  and  fast 
Seemed  to  bear  farther  from  her 

The  memory  of  the  Past. 

She  spoke  no  more  of  Bregenz 

With  longing  and  with  tears  ; 
Her  Tyrol  home  seemed  faded 

In  a  deep  mist  of  years ; 
Yet,  when  her  master's  children 

Would  clustering  round  her  stand, 
She  sang  them  ancient  ballads 

Of  her  own  native  land  ; 

And  when  at  morn  and  evening 

She  knelt  before  God's  throne, 
The  accents  of  her  childhood 

Rose  to  her  lips  alone. 
And  so  she  dwelt :  the  valley 

More  peaceful  year  by  year  ; 
When  suddenly  strange  portents  ^ 

Of  some  great  deed  seemed  near. 

1  Por'teiits,  signs. 


A    LEGEND    OF    BREGENZ.  41 

One  day,  out  in  the  meadow, 

With  strangers  from  the  town 
Some  secret  plan  discussing. 

The  men  walked  up  and  down. 
At  eve  they  all  assembled  ; 

Then  care  and  doubt  were  fled ; 
With  jovial  laugh  they  feasted ; 

The  board  was  nobly  spread. 

The  elder  of  the  village 

Rose  up,  his  glass  in  hand. 
And  cried,  "  We  drink  the  downfall 

Of  an  accursed  land! 
The  night  is  growing  darker  ; 

Ere  one  more  day  is  flown, 
Bregenz,  our  foeman's  stronghold, 

Bregenz  shall  be  our  own  I  " 

The  women  shrank  in  terror 

(Yet  Pride,  too,  had  her  part), 
But  one  poor  Tyrol  maiden 

Felt  death  within  her  heart. 
Nothing  she  heard  around  her 

(Though  shouts  rang  forth  again) ; 
Gone  were  the  green  Swiss  vallejrs, 

The  pasture  and  the  plain ; 

Before  her  eyes  one  vision. 

And  in  her  heart  one  cry 
That  said,  "  Go  forth  !  save  Bregenz, 

And  then,  if  need  be,  die ! " 


42  A  FIFTH   READER. 

With  trembling  haste  and  breathless, 
With  noiseless  step  she  sped ; 

Horses  and  weary  cattle 
Were  standing  in  the  shed ; 

She  loosed  the  strong  white  charger 

That  fed  from  out  her  hand ; 
She  mounted,  and  she  turned  liis  head 

Towards  her  native  land. 
Out  —  out  into  the  darkness  — 

Faster,  and  still  more  fast ;  — 
The  smooth  grass  flies  behind  her, 

The  chestnut  wood  is  past; 

She  looks  up;    clouds  are  heavy; 

Why  is  her  steed  so  slow  ?  -^ 
Scarcely  the  wind  beside  them 

Can  pass  them  as  they  go. 
"  Faster !  "  she  cries,  "  oh,  faster  ! '' 

Eleven  the  church  bells  chime; 
*•'  O  God,"  she  cries,  "  help  Bregenz, 

And  bring  me  there  in  time !  " 

But  louder  than  bells'  ringing. 

Or  lowing  of  the  kine, 
Grows  nearer  in  the  midnight 

The  rushing  of  the  Rhine. 
She  strives  to  pierce  the  blackness 

And  looser  throws  the  rein ; 
Her  steed  must  breast  the  waters 

That  dash  above  his  mane. 


A    LEGEND    OF    BREGENZ. 


43 


44  A   FIFTH    READER. 


How  gallantly,  how  nobly, 

He  struggles  through  the  foam  I 
And  see  —  in  the  far  distance 

Shine  out  the  lights  of  home ! 
Up  the  steep  bank  he  bears  her, 

And  now  they  rush  again 
Towards  the  heights  of  Bregenz 

That  tower  above  the  plain. 

They  reach  the  gates  of  Bregenz 

Just  as  the  midnight  rings, 
And  out  come  serf  and  soldier 

To  meet  the  news  she  brings. 
Bregenz  is  saved !     Ere  daylight 

Her  battlements  are  manned ; 
Defiance  greets  the  army 

That  marches  on  the  land. 

Three  hundred  years  are  vanished, 

And  yet  upon  the  hill 
An  old  stone  gateway  rises 

To  do  her  honor  still. 
And  there,  when  Bregenz  women 

Sit  spinning  in  the  shade, 
They  see  in  quaint  old  carving 

The  Charger  and  the  Maid. 

And  when,  to  guard  old  Bregenz 
By  gateway,  street,  and  tower, 

The  warder  paces  all  night  long 
And  calls  each  passing  hour; 


THE    KNIGHTS    OF    OLD.  45 


"Nine,"  "ten,"  "eleven,"  he  cries  aloud, 
And  then  (Oh,  crown  of  Fame  I), 

When  midnight  pauses  in  the  skies, 
He  calls  the  maiden's  name! 


IX.     THE   KNIGHTS   OF   OLD. 

MORE  than  a  thousand  years  ago  there  lived  in  the 
part  of  the  Avorld  that  is  now  called  France  a 
famous  king  whose  name  was  Charlemagne.  Tliis  Charle- 
magne was  a  very  wonderful  man.  He  was  strong,  brave  in 
battle,  noble  and  generous,  and  also  a  very  wise  ruler.  He 
made  one  great  kingdom  out  of  what  was  before  many  petty 
tribes  and  states. 

King  Charlemagne  gathered  about  him  many  brave,  noble 
knights  to  grace  his  court  and  fight  his  battles.  Fighting 
Avas  then  thought  to  be  tlie  noblest  work  that  man  could  do, 
for  Charlemagne  lived  in  the  Dark  Ages,  as  they  were 
called.  His  knights,  clad  in  suits  of  armor,  used  to  go 
about  the  country  seeking  battles  with  other  knights.  They 
usually  fought  in  the  name  and  for  the  glory  of  some  lady 
whose  favor  they  expected  to  win. 

You  must  understand  that  in  those  days  gunpowder  was 
not  known ;  so  battles  were  fought  hand  to  hand,  with 
swords  and  spears.  The  knights,  and  the  horses  that  they 
rode,  were  covered  with  suits  of  steel  armor  to  protect  them 
from  the  blow'S  of  the  enemy.  The  men  wore  metal  hel- 
mets on  their  heads,  breastplates  of  steel  to  protect  them  in 
front,  and  even  steel  gauntlets  to  protect  their  hands  and 
arms.  Indeed,  there  was  no  part  of  the  body  that  was  not 
covered  with  armor. 


46  A   FIFTH   READER. 


The  knights  of  King  Charlemagne  were  called  "pala- 
dins," and  though  they  often  fought  with  the  other  knights 
of  France,  for  tlie  ladies  or  for  glory,  their  chief  enemies 
were  the  followers  of  a  great  conqueror  whose  name  was 
Mohammed.  These  were  a  wild,  warlike  people  who  had 
conquered  Jerusalem  and  the  Holy  Land,  who  ruled  all  the 
northern  part  of  Africa  and  had  finally  come  in  great  num- 
bers into  France  and  Spain.  They  were  known  as  Saracens. 
Between  them  and  the  paladins  of  Charlemagne  many  fierce 
battles  were  fought. 

Ariosto  was  a  poet  who  lived  in  Italy,  the  land  where  the 
Romans  once  lived.  He  wrote  a  book  which  he  called 
"  Orlando  Furioso,"  in  which  he  told  many  tales  of  battles 
which  were  supposed  to  have  been  fought  between  the 
paladins  and  Saracens.  Some  of  these  tales  have  been 
rewritten  in  our  language,  and  published  in  a  volume 
entitled  "  Paladin  and  Saracen."  I  hope  many  of  you  will 
read  them.     One  of  these  tales  is  as  follows. 


X.    THE   ADVENTURES   OF   BRADAMANTE.* 

By  Ludovico  Ariosto. 
CHAPTER  I. 

MANY  were  the  brave  deeds  done  by  the  paladins  of 
France,  and  when  I  have  told  you  a  few  of  them  you 
will  easily  believe  that  so  gallant  a  band  of  knights  never 
fought  under  the  banner  of  any  prince  before  or  afterwards. 
And  one  of  the  boldest  and  most  skillful  warriors  in  the 
great  Emperor's  army  was  a  gentle  maiden  born  of  the 
noblest  family  of  France. 

1  Brad'a-mante  (Brad'a-mant). 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    BRADAMANTE.  47 


Bradamante  was  the  name  of  this  ^'arlike  damsel,  and 
her  father  was  Duke  Hammon,  of  Montalbano,  so  that 
she  came  of  the  famous  house  of  Clairmont,  and  was  sister 
to  Raynald  the  Paladin,  and  cousin  to  the  peerless  Roland. 
But  though  her  valor  in  arms  was  such  that  Charlemagne 
esteemed  her  the  equal  of  her  fiery  brother,  yet  she  was 
gentle  of  heart,  as  befitted  a  dame  of  such  high  degree,  and 
dearly  loved  a  noble  young  prince  of  the  Saracen  army, 
whom  many  held  to  be  the  bravest  knight  in  all  the  camp 
of  King  Agramant.  Roger  was  the  name  of  this  valiant 
prince,  whom  his  comrades  surnamed  the  Courteous,  and 
he  loved  the  noble  Bradamante  with  all  his  heart,  so  that 
above  everything  in  the  world  he  longed  to  win  her  for 
his  bride. 

Now,  when  the  battle  of  the  Pyrenees  was  fairly  lost, 
Bradamante  separated  herself  from  the  retreating  paladins 
and  set  out  in  quest  of  her  lover;  for  she  had  perceived 
that  he  was  not  among  the  knights  who  fought  around  the 
Saracen  king,  and  she  feared  that  some  evil  chance  had 
befallen  him.  She  asked  news  of  Roger  from  every  one 
she  met,  but  no  one  could  tell  her  anything  of  the  Courteous 
Prince;  so  she  rode  on  alone  through  a  vast  forest  and 
over  a  lofty  mountain,  till  she  came  down  on  the  other  side 
of  it  to  a  shady  valley,  at  the  head  of  which  a  spring  of  clear 
water  bubbled  out  from  a  rocky  cave  and  ran  down  between 
the  green  pastures  and  through  the  beautiful  copses. 

By  the  side  of  the  stream  lay  a  knight,  who  had  tied  his 
horse  to  a  beech  tree  near  the  bank  ;  and,  as  he  seemed  very 
sorrowful,  Bradamante  asked  him  what  was  his  grief,  and 
whether  she  could  do  anything  to  help  him.  But  he  sup- 
posed her  to  be  a  man  like  himself,  and  answered  her :  "  Sir 
Knight,  I  am  truly  the  most  wretched  of  men,  and  much  I 


48  A   FIFTH   READER. 


fear  that  no  man  can  avail  to  help  me.  For  a  week  ago 
I  was  leading  my  people  to  fight  for  the  Emperor,  and  with 
me  was  my  gentle  lady,  in  whose  love  is  all  my  happiness, 
when  suddenly  there  appeared  in  the  air  above  us  a  warrior 
in  shining  armor,  riding  upon  a  winged  monster  with  the 
head  of  a  griffin  and  the  body  of  a  horse,  who  seized  my 
lady  in  his  arms  and  placed  her  on  his  own  saddle,  and,  in 
spite  of  her  teai-s  and  shrieks,  carried  her  off  through  the 
air  as  the  eagle  carries  a  bleating  lamb  to  his  nest.  There- 
upon I  left  my  soldiers  to  go  on  without  their  leader  to 
battle,  and  turning  my  horse's  head  I  followed  alone  in  the 
direction  in  which  the  robber  had  vanished  with  my  lady. 

"Three  days  I  rode  over  desolate  mountains  and  through 
dark  forests,  and  on  the  fourth  day  I  came  to  a  dreary 
valley,  in  the  midst  of  which  rose  a  steep  crag  of  bare  rock, 
and  on  the  top  of  the  rock  stood  a  vast  castle  which  daz- 
zled the  eyes  of  all  who  looked  upon  it ;  for  its  walls  and 
towers  were  built  of  shining  steel,  and  not  a  speck  of  rust 
or  dirt  was  to  be  seen  on  their  shining  surface.  When  I 
saw  this  wonderful  castle,  I  thought  that  here  surely  was 
the  stronghold  of  the  robber  whom  I  sought,  and  without 
delay  I  essayed  to  ride  up  to  the  gate ;  but  my  horse  was 
weary  from  long  journeying,  and  could  not  clamber  up  the 
steep  rock  upon  which  the  castle  was  built.  So  I  was  forced 
to  remain  in  the  valley  below. 

"But  while  I  stood  there,  not  knowing  what  would 
become  of  me,  there  came  by  Gradasso,  the  King  of  China, 
and  the  African  Prince  Roger,  who  asked  me  the  meaning 
of  my  sorrow  and  perplexity.  And  when  I  had  told  it  to 
them  they  clambered  to  the  top  of  the  rock,  and,  seizing 
the  horn  which  hung  upon  the  gatepost,  challenged  the 
master  of   the  castle  to  combat.     But,  alas  I    though  they 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    BRADAMANTE.  49 

were  the  bravest  warriors  upon  earth,  they  could  not  pre- 
vail against  this  villain;  for  the  swoop  of  the  winged 
monster  was  swifter  than  the  swoop  of  the  hawk  upon 
his  prey,  and  their  sword  thrusts  were  spent  upon  the 
empty  air,  while  the  blows  of  their  enemy  fell  true  upon 
their  shields  and  helmets. 

"And  at  last,  after  he  had  wearied  them  awhile  with  the 
unequal  combat,  he  stripped  off  the  silken  cover  from  his 
shield,  and  at  the  sight  of  it  they  fainted  away  upon  the 
ground;  for  that  shield  is  forged  of  enchanted  steel,  and 
whoever  beholds  its  brilliance  must  fall  dazzled  and  sense- 
less to  the  earth.  I  too  lost  my  senses  at  that  terrible 
sight,  and  when  I  came  to  myself  the  robber  and  the 
knights  had  disappeared,  and  I  was  lying  alone  upon  the 
ground.  Thereupon  I  lost  all  my  hope,  and  rode  sorrow- 
fully away,  and  came  to  this  fountain,  where  I  remain  in 
grief  and  despair ;  for  the  robber  is  so  mighty  an  enchanter 
that  nothing  can  avail  to  vaiiquish  him." 

Now  when  Bradamante  first  heard  the  name  of  Roger,  her 
heart  was  filled  with  joy ;  but  when  she  learned  how  he  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  enchanter,  she  turned  pale  with 
fear,  and  knew  not  what  to  think  of  her  lover's  fate ;  only 
she  was  resolved  at  once  to  go  and  try  if  she  could  not  deliver 
him  from  this  pex'il.  So  when  the  knight  had  finished  his 
woeful  story,  she  said,  "  Lead  me  at  once,  I  pray  you,  Sir 
Knight,  to  this  castle,  for  I  must  try  my  strength  against 
the  enchanter  without  delay." 

And  the  knight  answered  that  he  would  gladly  show  the 
way,  but  the  enterpriafi_would  certainly  end  in  disaster ;  for 
no  man  could  hope  to  stand  against  the  owner  of  the  flying 
horse  and.  the  enchanted  shield.  Therewith  they  set  out 
upon  their  journey ;    but  they  had  hardly  gone  a  hundred 


60  .aTKAllAO^^PlFTH  HBAI5ERr/aA    aHT 


yards'  before  a  messenger'cam:^' up  tft^fttU' galloji)  frbni*  big^ 
hind  them,  and  calling  Bradamante  by  name,  cried  :  "Noble 
lady,  hasten  to  the  rescue  of  your  people,  for  the  city  of 
Marseilles  and  all  the  county  of  fair  Provence  is  assailed 
by ithe  iSaracehs;''''' mi'  •hdi  io  8woId  edi  Qiidw  fiifi  "^qnio 
Now  Charlemagne  had  appointed  firidamau'feigfrv^d^ 
QJV^er  all  Provenceyknd^when  she  heard  this  doleful'  iieVs 
she  knew  not  what 'to  doi;  buthat-J^gth  she  decided  to  go 
tot ! to ' ihe  succbTJof. : /the  Briiice!,o oiA', 'af t^tw^rds  =  iJO  htrr!^ 
bn;.to  the  rescue  of  Iter 'subjects.-  So  she  bade  the  m^s^ 
senger  return  and  sa-y  that- 'she  would  come  to  their  relief 
a4  soon  as  she  had  i  finished  a  pressing  adventui'e ;  and 
with  this  I  answeoiith^itmessenger  gallbped ''feadk^-''by^'teiis 
sa;me  wayGheIjhaaJiii56me//aAdideftrih)5:f -  6?0ie^^^to  ^ f»Uisui^%;te^ 
jcyumey.SiJO'i  tuR  jOqcii  ^{fri  iisi  j^.oi  T  {('Knii^'jOuT  .Ijiitjcr^ 
m  But  a^rdate«JiairgeficaitteQiv6rJ^e  spirit  of  b^l'0;6i«pa|iM 
•w^hfin'he^^iheardliitiief  nai&ie^®f'i«Bradamahte,  and  fi^o^A  '^ka* 
moment  all  gratitude ifbniiier  generosity  fotsjpok  Miiil  an^d 
he  thought  only  how^  lie  -might  do  her  mischief .- ''  For  he 
came  of  the  false  brood  of  Maganza,  which  was  ''eVer  at 
enmity  withnthe  noble  house '  of  Olairftioiit;  and  of  all'  tfife 
traitorous  line  this  Count  Pinabel  -^  for  so  the  knight- was 
named  —was  the  basest  find  the  wor^t.  Willingly  would 
he  have  slain  the  noble'  damsel  where  she  stood,  biit  he 
knew  that  he  could  ndt  hope  to  bVer^^^e  hi^^r;  :&d  hfvi«^di- 
tated  how  he  might  do  by  treachery  what  he  could  neVei* 
accomplish  by  fair  fight.  With  this  intent  he  led  the  way', 
as  though  he  would  guide  her  faithfully  to  the  enchanted 
ualtlet^aud  Bradamante  pres^eid'oii  eageirly  behiftd' hitn,  f 64" 
she  never  suspected  that  he  was^bii^  'bf  the  enemies  of  htet 
race,  and  felt  nothing  but  pity- ^oi?'%te'ki&f oi*ttine  'and  im!- 
patienc^  to  deliver  her  lov^i^^ilj  ^^<^    ;y;jirnJor  I'^edi   noav 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    BRADAMANTE.  61 

;  Thus  they  rode  together  down  the  valley  and  through  a 
great  forest,  and  came  to  the  foot  of  a  mountain,  which 
they  set  themselves  to  cross ;  bu^as  they  were  winding  up 
its  side,  Pinabel  turned  to  his  companion  and  said:  "At 
the  top  of '^ihis  knountain  there  is  a  deep  pit  which  leads 
into  a  dark  cave  beneath  the  ground ;  and  when  I  passed 
the  place  two  days  ago  I  saw  a  beautiful  damsel  sitting  at 
the  bottom  of  the  pit,  and  weeping  as  though  her  heart 
would  break  for  Sorrow^  And  evenoias7iI.;'lookedi  a.  'vilt 
lainous  looking  ruffian  came  out  of'  the  cave  and  rudely 
dragged  her  in  with  him  by  the  wrist,  though  with  sobs 
and  tears  she  implored  him  to  have  mercy  on  her  and 
release  lier  from  her  imprisonment."  7;v[ooi  add  noq/j 
^i  Now  Bradamante  was  ever  ready?  :to 'help  those  who 
needed  it,  so  she  answered  that  it  were  a  shame  to  pass  so 
near  the  place  without  attempting  to  deliver  the  damsel,  and 
there  was  just  tinie  enough  to  accomplish  the ;  enterprise 
before  the  setting  of  the  sun.  So  they  rode  on  to  the 
mouth  of  the  pit,  where  Bradamante  drew  her  sword  and 
lopped^  off  a  great  bough  from  an  oak  that  grew  hard  by, 
and  giving  it  to  Pinabel,  isaid  :;*f  Keep  firm  hold  of  the 
efldof^this  pole^  and  I"will  loWer  myself  down  by  it  into 

^ ■  So   Pinabel '  grasped  -  id^f  ^endiT idfil tlifev  bougii' •  with'  botL 

hands  and  lowered  it  into  the  pit,  while  the  noble  Brada- 
mante sheathed  her  sWord  and  began  scrambling  down  this 
shaky  ladder  without  ever  trying  to  find  out  how  nearly 
it  reached  the  bottom.  But  she  had  not  gone  half  way 
down  its  length  when  the  false  Pinabel  suddenly  let  it  slip 
from  his  hands,  and  cried  with  a  diabolical  laugh  :  "Would 
that  all  thy  hateful  race  were  with  thee  on  this  pole,  that 
I  might  destroy. tjiem.  in., an  instanf;.'*     And  thereupon  lie 


62  A  FIFTH   READER. 

mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away  rejoicing  in  the  success 
of  his  dastardly  treason  ;  for  I  need  hardly  tell  you  that 
his  story  of  the  distressed  damsel  was  a  sheer  invention  of 
his  own  to  lure  Bradamante  to  her  destruction ;  and  he 
little  thought  that  his  treachery  would  be  the  means  of 
giving  her  the  victory  over  the  enchanter,  or  that  it  would 
lead  to  his  own  death. 

The  pit  was  very  deep,  and  was  bored  out  of  the  solid 
rock ;  but  happily  for  Bradamante  her  fall  was  broken  by 
the  great  bough  to  which  she  clung,  and  this  saved  her  from 
being  dashed  to  pieces  as  Pinabel  had  expected,  though  so 
rude  was  her  fall  that  she  lay  stunned  for  more  than  an 
hour  upon  the  rocky  floor.  But  when  she  recovered  her 
senses  she  found  that  in  one  respect  Pinabel  had  spoken 
more  truly  than  he  knew  or  intended ;  for  there  was  really 
a  door  in  the  wall  of  the  pit,  which  seemed  to  lead  into  the 
bowels  of  the  earth.  She  passed  through  it,  and  found  her- 
self in  a  cavern  hollowed  out  of  the  hard  rock,  so  vast  that 
it  might  have  served  for  the  den  of  a  race  of  giants  ;  but  the 
form  in  which  it  wais  built  suggested  rather  the  appearance 
of  a  solemn  cathedral ;  great  columns  of  the  purest  alabaster  ^ 
rose  from  floor  to  roof,  and  divided  it  into  nave  ^  and  aisles, 
and  the  whole  grotto  was  lighted  by  a  single  lamp  of  won- 
derful brightness,  which  hung  before  an  altar  in  the  distant 
apse.'' 

While  Bradamante  gazed  in  wonder  around  her,  a  beau- 
tiful lady,  clad  in  robes  of  purple  samite,*  and  with  her 
black  hair  bound  by  a  chain   of  golden  bees,  came   from 

^  al'a-baa-ter,  a  beautiful  and  valuable  variety  of  limestone,  used  for 
ornamental  structures  and  articles. 

2  nave,  the  main  body  of  a  church. 

8  apse,  the  projection  from  the  end  of  a  church. 
•    *  sa'mite  (sa'mit),  a  peculiarly  beautiful  silk  cloth. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  BRADAMANTE. 


53 


before  the  altar  and  said :  "  Welcome,  noble  Bradamante, 
and  know  that  it  is  no  mere  chance  that  brings  you  hither ; 
for  this  is  the  grotto  which  Merlin  the  Wise  commanded  the 
spirits  of  the  earth  to  fashion  for  him,  and  hither  his  body 
was  brought  when  the  false  Vivien  laid  him  in  a  trance  for- 
ever. Now,  therefore,  his  body  lies  motionless  in  the  tomb 
which  I  will  show  you,  but  his  spirit  is  alive  within  him, 
and  prophesies  of  the  future  to  all  who  seek  his  counsel. 
And  when  I  came  many  days  ago  to  consult  him  he  told  me 
that  you  would  follow  me  hither  to-day,  and  bade  me  stay 
to  show  you  the  high  fortunes  that  await  you.  Come  with 
me  therefore  to  the  tomb,  and  hear  what  his  voice  will  say  to 
you,  and  afterwards  I  will  teach  you  all  things  needful  for 
your  fame  and  happiness.  For  I  am  the  enchantress  Melissa, 
the  friend  of  you  and  all  your  house,  and  Merlin  has  ap- 
pointed me  to  guard  your  destinies  and  bring  to  naught  the 
counsels  of  your  enemies." 

With  these  words  Melissa  led  the  astonished  Bradamante 


to  the  apse  at  the  end  of  the  grotto,  and, 
opening  another  door  in  the  wall,  disclosed 
a  vaulted  chapel,  in  the  center  of  which 
stood  the  sepulcher  of  Merlin  the  Wise. 
The  walls  of  the  chapel  were  lined  with 
transparent  marble,  which  shed  a  soft  rosy  light  through 
the  place,  but  the  tomb  was  a  great  sarcophagus  of  un- 


9f^  .aTTlAMAA/iHCFTH:^  READERaVQA    HHT 

blemished  cfjrstal,  and  in  it  the  body  of  the  mighty  wizard: 
had  lain  entranced  for  a  hundred  years,  so  that  his  white 
beard  was  grown  down  to  his  knees  ;  but  the  blood  had  noti 
left  his  lips,  nor  the  color  faded  from  his  cheeks.  And  there 
he  must  lie  till  the  end  of  the  world,  for  there  is  .n^xemedy. 
t<0.  break  the  spell  which  binds  him  in  this:traniQe,Y/oM;  /i^)V9 
, ,  !N^o w  as  Bradamante  entered :  the  >  door  the  voice  of  Merlin 
i^feiUf^  from,  the  midst  .of '  iJie  erystal  sepuicher^  ^and :  m-d^'  i-a  n 

Y^ia  emS^l^^^^^^'-^^^^  ^^  ^^^^^"^^R^.Hliiow  no^  ^£d; 
;  .  ,A  fflorious  destiny  is  thine,         ,   •  r     i  l  j 

ifjiT/  emoO.  *^  ,.        .,  ,  ,,.iVii  odi  ifoyv/oria  c J 

And  naught  avails  man  s  enmity*^  ^ 

c>]  ^^^8  iliw^o  balk  the  Fates  of  their  decr^e.^'''  *^'^  O'lolQ-iodi  9ffl 

•Ktl  luibsivThe  traitor  seeks  thy  life  in  vainj'"'-"^^'''*'^»>  ^--^  -^^^^X 

,;)ar:ik'M  BfWhose  treason  works  his  victim's  gaiii|  :L      i:;  i  '   -  / 

-rij  end  nlln  vain  the  enchanter's  craft  is  pjied  /   5o  bnoi'ii  oil) 

To  tear  thee  from  thy  bridegroom's  3^4"^,^  q^j  f::9iaio(i 

All  blissful  joy  shall  crown  thy  life;,.^^^-,  ^^  ^l^^tulO') 

r     The  Fates  appoint  thee  Roger's  wife:  .     ..... 

Fame  and  success  thy  steps  betide  I 

^_,-,.„^_^Thus  Merlin's  soul  greets  Roger's  bride..*'      ,  ^    ^■■^■^■■t 

Then  a  great  silence  fell  upon  the  chapel,  and  the  tioble 
damsel  was  like  to  faint  for  joy ;  but  kind  Melissa  took  her 
by  the  hand  and  led  her  back  into  the  spacious  grotto,  where 
she  set  food  and  wine  before  her,  and  bade  her  eat  and, 
drink  and  recover  her  strength,  and  afterwards  she  should 
heairall  that  Merlin:  had  [Commissioned  the  enchantress  to 
tblLhlei?»ib  .liBV/  odl  ni  -loob  loiflon^  p^ninoqo 
.[As  soon  as  they  hkd  refreshed  theinselves  with  the  supper 
Melissa  said :  ''  First  I  will  show  you  the  likenesses  of  all 
the  great  warriors  and  wise  statesmen  and  all  the  gracious 
ladies:  that  shall  descend  from  your  union  with  Prince: 
Roger;  fo?^  you  have  heard  from  the  lips  of  Merlin  that  ypjiij 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  BRADAMANTE.      «8B 

are  destined  to  be  his  bride,  and  it  is  fated  that  .you^sliould 
found  one  of  the  mightiest  families  in  the  world.^fff-   i  noi^igso 
biAavlI'witk  :th«se  .^ords   the   enchantress  drew  a  magic r 
eifcle  in  the  center  of  the  grotto^  and  inside  the  circle  she; 
traced  the  lines  of  a  pentacle,  in  which  she  bade  Bradamante; 
take  her  stand.     I  suppose  you  know  what  a  pentacle  is  just 
as  well  as  I  do,  so  I  am  not  going  to  tell  you  about i:i|}  here; 
f pr  yoii.  have  only  to  read  your  '*  Ingoldsby  Legends  "  ^  to 
find  out  how  it  is  made,  and  will  give  yourself  the  treat 
of  a  good  hearty  fit  of  laughing  into  the  bargain. 

Well,  then,  Bradamante  placed  herself  within  the  pentacle, 
and  Melissa  took  a  wand  in  her  right  hand  and  a  book  of 
magic  in  her  left,  and  began  reading  the  spells  by  which 
she  controlled  the  spirits  to  her  purpose.     And  as  she  read, 
a  grjeat' multitude  of  spirits  passed  one  byi  one  before,  theifi 
eyBS^i wearing  the  likeness  of  Bradamante's  future  descend-i 
aiits :  some  were  armed  from  head  to  foot  in  shining  mail,:; 
others  wore  crowns  upon  their  heads^  and  carried  princely^ 
scepters  iii  their  hands,  while  sQiae  ^ippfe^ed  in  the  guise  I 
o^- smooth-cheeked  lads  in  the' slaish^d  doublets  and  bright 
parti-cblored  hose  such  as  you  see  in  old  Italian  pictures,  ; 

Numbers  of  ladies,  too^  filed  before  them:  grave  matrons: 
with  silver  hair  and  slbw  majestic  gait,  pfotid  princesses* 
in  jeweled  coronets  and  magnificent  brocaded  gowns,  and/ 
meTi-y  rtiaidens  with  nuti-brown  hair  and  laughing  gray  eyes, 
whose  sunny  smiles  seemed  to  gladden  all  the  grotto.  And 
as  the  spirits  passed  by  Melissa  told  Bradamante  whom  they 
represented  and  what '  ^ouM  i  be  eac}>  one's  destiny  in  the: 
world ;  and  greatly  did  the  noble  damsel  rejoice  to  think 
that  she  should  be  the  mother  of  so  princely  a  race. 

^  Ingoldsby  Legends,    a    series  of  satirical  stories  by  Richard 
Harris  Barhain.   '^  ^^^'  esb^ed  has    i  si-gas  n&  nnAi  id'gih  aii 


56  A   FIFTH   READER.  ^ 

Three  full  hours  she  spent  in  watching  this  brilliant  pro- 
cession ;  but  when  they  were  all  gone  by,  the  kind  enchant- 
ress said :  "  Now.  we  will  take  our  rest  for  the  night,  and 
in  the  morning  I  will  tell  you  everything  that  you  must  do 
to  deliver  Prince  Roger  out  of  the  enchanted  castle,  and  I 
will  go  with  you  as  far  as  I  can  upon  your  journey."  So 
she  prepared  a  bed  for  Bradamante  and  another  for  her- 
self, whereon  they  both  slept  soundly  till  the  following 
sunrise. 

CHAPTER  II. 

AT  sunrise  the  two  noble  ladies  set  out  upon  their  jour- 
ney, which  they  were  forced  to  perform  on  foot,  for 
the  traitor  Pinabel  had  made  off  with  Bradamante's  charger. 
But  even  if  they  had  had  a  horse,  he  would  have  been  more 
a  hindrance  than  a  help  to  them,  for  the  path  was  dark  and 
difficult,  and  led  them  into  a  thickly  wooded  ravine  shut  in 
by  almost  impassable  precipices,  so  that  they  had  to  spend 
the  whole  day  in  scrambling  down  the  face  of  the  cliffs,  and 
crossing  the  rocky  beds  of  foaming  torrents.  But  Melissa 
relieved  the  troubles  of  the  journey  by  wise  and  pleasant 
discourse,  and  especially  she  told  her  companion  how  she 
was  to  set  about  the  deliverance  of  her  lover. 

"  Everything,"  she  said,  "  which  Pinabel  told  you  about 
the  enchanter  is  true  to  the  letter ;  for  the  castle  walls  are 
really  of  solid  steel,  and  its  position  is  so  strong  that  even 
though  you  were  as  powerful  as  Charlemagne  and  King 
Agramant  put  together,  and  had  both  their,  armies  at  your 
orders,  you  could  never  take  it  by  assault.'  The  winged 
monster,  too,  upon  which  the  magician  rid6s,  is  swifter  in 
its  flight  than  an  eagle;    and  besides  all  this,  the   bright 


THE    ADVENTURES    OF    BRADAMANTE.  67 


shield  is  so  cunningly  enchanted  that  eveiy  one  who  beholds 
it  is  struck  helpless  and  swooning  to  the  ground.  But 
though  force  will  not  help  you,!  will  tell  you  how  you  may 
defeat  your  enemy  by  spells  that  are  stronger  than  his  own. 

"  There  is  a  magic  ring,  which,  if  you  wear  it  on  j^our 
finger,  will  keep  you  unharmed  amid  all  enchantments, 
while  if  you  put  it  into  your  mouth  you  will  immediately 
become  invisible.  >.  This  precious  ring  once  belonged  to  the 
beautiful  Princess  Angelica,  the  beloved  of  Count  Roland ; 
but  while  she  was  yet  in  her  Indian  kingdom  it  was  stolen 
from  her  by  the  rascally  thief  Brunello,  who  took  it  with  him 
into  Africa  and  sold  it  for  a  great  price  to  King  Agramant. 
And  Agramant  is  now  sending  the  thief  to  deliver  Prince 
Roger  by  its  aid;  for  he  values  the  Courteous  Prince  above 
all  the  other  knights  in  his  array.  But  Roger  must  owe  his 
deliverance  to  you  alone,  and  not  to  such  a  scoundrel  as 
Brunello ;  and  this  is  how  you  must  manage  it. 

"  To-night  I  will  leave  you  at  a  little  inn  on  the  shore  of 
the  Bay  of  Biscay,  where  you  must  wait  patiently  for  two 
days.  On  the  third  day  Brunello  will  come  to  the  place ; 
and  you  will  easily  recognize  him,  for  he  is  a  hideous  dwarf, 
less  .than  five  feet  high,  with  a  skin  as  brown  as  walnut- 
juice,  and  a  crop  of  frizzled  black  hair  on  his  mis-shapen 
head ;  his  eyes  are  swollen  and  bleared,  his  nose  flat  and 
crooked,  and  his  eyebrows  so  thick  and  shaggy  that  you 
would  think  his  beard  had  grown  there  by  mistake.  Now 
you  must  ask  him  to  be  your  guide,  and  tell  him  that  you 
are  burning  with  eagerness  to  fight  against  the  enchanter; 
but  say  nothing  of  Prince  Roger,  or  he  will  certainly 
give  you  the  slip.  And  when  you  come  in  sight  of  the 
castle,  turn  suddenly  upon  him  and  cut  off  his  head  with 
your  sword;   and  don't  pity  or  spare  him,  for  if   he  had 


58  .STWAMACaLiTIFTH   READBRIVaA    3KT 

revived  half  his  deserts  he  would:  have  swung  upon  tibie 
gallows  long  ago.  In  this  way  you  will  get  possession  of 
th^  rmagic  ring,  arid  jwill  te  .  proof  against  all  the  enchantt 
ments  of  the  magician ;  but  if  you  try  any  other  means  of 
attacking  him  you  will  certainly  fail,  for  withouti- the  ^  ring 
nobody  can. withstand  the  power  of  his  spellswy>[   Iliv^  >iopai: 

Bradamante  thanked j  thei  kiaid  enchantress  lor  iieiriiirir 
structions,  which  she  promised  to  remember  and  follow* 
faithfully;  and  immediately  afterwards,  they  found  them-» 
selives  apon'  i  the  i  seashore,  arid:  close :  to  the  little  inn  at 
i^Mcii  Melissa  wais / to  -part  frorii  her  companion.  ^There 
everything  happened  as  she  had  foretold :  Bradamante  waited 
for  two  days  without  seeing  any  stranger  approach  the  place, 
but  ahe  bought  herself  a  fime  black  Spanish  jennet  which 
th^  ttandlord  happened  to  have, for  sale  in  his  stables,  and 
amused  herself  by  trying  his  pacie.  and/ tilting  at:tk<e  ring:iii> 
the  yard.  ,,,     ..  ::[  ,,;.:v  ■,>■-  '.  '-r..--,  ■•:■; 

i(,Qa  the  third  morning,  the;  notorious  thief  Brunello  came 
tp/<)hQriinn.' and  called  for  breakfast ;  and  Bradamante  knew 
him  at  once  from  Melissa's  description,  and  thought,  "  This 
must .  certainly  ,be  my  scoundrel,  for  the  world  could  not 
hbldi ;  two  ;such  riionsters  :  a^  A  time."  He  was  dressed  in 
the  tight  leather  jerkiri  ^nd  breeches  of  a  courier,  ( which 
showed  all  the  hideous  deformities  of  his  limbs  at  their 
worst,  his  wicked-looking  face  was  so  disgustingly  ugly 
that  you  could  hardly  believe  him  to  be  a  huriian  being; 
and  his  bony  hands  played  restlessly  about,  as  if  they  itched 
to  steal  whatever  his  bleared  eyes  rested  upon. 

Bradamante  saw  with  joy  that  on  one  of  his  fingers  he 
wore  the  magic  ring,  which  was  a  broad  hoop  of  solid  gold, 
with  a  turquoise  as  big  and  as  blue  as  a  hedge  sparrow's 
egg  in  the  center ;  and  she  lost  no  time  in  coming  to  speech 


THE  ADVENTURES^lOF:  BRADAMANTE.      59 


witM  him,  and  asking  him  if  he  could  show  her  to  the  castle 
of  steel.     "  For,"  she  said^.Hl  havie  heard  much  of  the  crimes    : i 
of  the  robber  who  dwells  there,  and.  how  he  afflicts  all  the 
land  by  carrying  off  noble  knights  and  beautiful  ladies  to  his  aid 
fortress ;  and  I  have  vowed  not  to  put  off  the  helmet  froi^ir 
my  head  nor  unbuckle  the  sword  from  my  side  .tijl  I  haYfeusd 
come  to  ■  an  jencounter  with  hiiii,  and  tried  to ,  ridf  itYm  Worjd. ,  j n 
of  such  a  plague.     But  the  people  here  dare  not  show  me  ^xjj 
the  way  to  the  castle,  and  so  great  is  their  terror  that  they'  =  ii 
pretend  not  to  know  where  it  lies ;    so  that,  if  you  know 
these  mountains  and  will  guide  me  on  my  way,  you  will  do 
a  great  service  to  me  and  all  the  world." 

Now  to  Brunello  this  proposal  seemed  a  rare  piece  of 
luck ;  for  he  thought,  "  If  only  this  big  fellow  sets  to 
whacking  the  enchanter,  I  shall  find  it  all  the  easier  to  slip 
into  the  castle  and  do  my  errand."  So  he  put  on  a  hideous 
grin,  which  was  his  way  of  smiling  pleasantly,  and  answered : 
"  True  it  is.  Sir  Knight,  that  I  know  every  mountain  and 
valley  of  the^  Pyrenees  as  well  as  a  farmer  knows  his  own 
fields  and  hedges ;  and  as  I  have  a  little  spare  time  on  my 
hands,  I  will  gladly  show  you  the  way  to  the  enchanter's 
castle."  But  he  said  nothing  about  the  magic  ring,  and  you 
may  be  sure  that  Bradamante  was  very  careful  not  to  let  a 
word  drop  about  Prince  Roger. 

Brunello  was  still  busy  over  his  breakfast,  and  the  greedy 
little  scamp  gobbled  down  half  a  dozen  mutton  chops  and 
three  plates' of  eggs  and  bacon  before  he  Iwas  c^dy  tQistar;t;[[T 
but  at  last  he  got  into  his  saddle,  and  led  the  way  towards 
the  mountains.     Bradamante  followed  just  behind  him,  ando^^ 
took  care  not  to  come  too  close ;  for,  she  thought,  "If  1:iq[ 
do  ri*t  keep  my  distance,  those  curining  hands,  of  his.  \y:ill  he^c^?, 
stealing  the  horse  from  under  me."    And  in  this  she  showed    ■ 


60 


A  FIFTH   READER. 


her  sense,  for  nothing  was  safe  that  came  within  the  reach  of 
Brunello's  fingers;  and,  in  fact,  he  was  the  very  master  thief 
to  whom  the  light-fingered  fellow  in  Grimms'  stories  bound 
himself  apprentice. 

They  rode  a  long  way  over  the  windy  passes,  and  from 
height  to  height  of  the  great  chain  of  the  Pyrenees,  till  they 
mounted  to  the  topmost  ridge,  from  which  they  could  see 
the  Bay  of  Biscay  heaving  with  the  great  Atlantic  swell  on 
their  right,  and  the  blue  Mediterranean  glittering  in  the 


sunlight  to  their  left.  , 

Thence  they,  followed 

a  rugged  track  which   led  them  down  the 

southern  side  of  the  mountain  range,  and  brought  them  at 

length  to  the  desolate  valley  in  the  midst  of  which  rose  the 

steep  mass  of  rock  crowned  with  its  enchanted  castle  of 

shining   steel. 


ADVENTURES  OF  BRADAMANTE.         61 

Then  Bradamante  thought  it  was  high  time  to  get  posses- 
sion of  the  magic  ring ;  so  she  leaped  upon  Brunello  as  a 
cat  leaps  on  a  mouse,  and  before  he  had  time  to  think  of 
what  was  happening  to  him,  she, had  dragged  him  from  his 
saddle  and  tied  his  hands  tight  behind  his  back  with  a  piece 
of  whipcord.  But  the  generous  damsel  would  not  draw  her 
sword,  as  Melissa  had  bidden  her,  against  an  unarmed  man ; 
and  even  though  she  knew  the  hideous  little  dwarf  to  be 
the  most  thorough-paced  scoundrel  unhung,  still  she  took 
shame  to  slay  him  when  she  saw  him  bound  and  helpless  at 
her  feet.  In  this  only  did  she  disobey  the  instructions  of 
Melissa,  and  I  am  happy  to  say  that  her  generosity  brought 
her  no  harm,  though  the  world  would  certainly  have  been 
grateful  to  her  for  making  an  end  of  so  pestilent  ^  a  rascal. 
However,  she  dared  not  leave  him  at  liberty,  or  he  would 
certainly  have  revenged  himself  for  the  assault  _  by  working 
the  ruin  of  her  enterprise ;  so  she  bound  him  securely  to  a 
great  tree  that  grew  near  by  the  side  of  the  path,  and  there 
left  him  to  shriek  himself  hoarse  with  abuse  of  her.  But 
first  she  took  the  precious  ring  which  he  wore  and  put  it 
upon  her  own  finger,  and  with  it  went  on  confidently  towards 
the  castle. 

The  four  sides  of  the  crag  went  sheer  down  from  top  to 
bottom ;  but  in  one  of  them  the  enchanter  had  cut  a  path- 
way so  narrow  that  only  onB  person  could  ride  along  it  at  a 
time,  and  so  steep  that  it  needed  a  strong  and  sure-footed 
ho-^se  to  clamber  up  it.  With  great  difficulty  Bradamante 
goc  her  jennet  ^  to  make  the  ascent ;  and  she  no  sooner  came 
to  the  level  platform  at  the  top  than  she  seized  the  horn  that 
hung  by  the  castle  gate,  and  blew  a  blast  which  made  the 
bright  walls  quiver  and  ring  with,  its  echo.  Her  challenge 
•'  pes'ti-lent;  evil ;  harmful.  ^  jen'net,  a  small  Spanish  horse. 


62  .rjT>lAlAA  (FIFTH  >^HEAI>ERi  >; 

was  answered  from  within  the  castle,  and  immediately  after- 
wards Bradamante  saw  het  en^mj  shoo t^iu-pi  into  the  air  anft 
wheel  in  great  circles  above  her  head.,  jciJOiii  a  no  fc(|j;t>I  jxio 
The  winged  monster  upon  whicb  lip  i  rode  •■^aS/^call^ 
Hippogrif,  and  was  tlie  only  beast  of  its  kind  that  was  ever 
seen  4  for  itsf  head  and  nedk  ewerej:thoseiPl;«tl  griffiOif  ;^iid  ^q 
were  its  fore  legs  and  feet,  which  were  furnished  with  great 
claws  three  inches  long  and  as  hard  as  the  cui^ved  instriir, 
ment  at  the  back  of  your  knife  for  pulling  a  stone  out(  of:^ 
horse's  lQ6ti'-'ButL;ia"  its  hind:  le^  lanid/  iii  litsYbjbdyi  itfiwa's 
like  a  horse ;  only  frorii  the  shoulders  grew!  a  pair :  of 
enormous  wings,  with  feathers  shaped  like  an  iea^le'^^};  M^ 
radiant  with  all  the  seven  colors  of  the  rainbcj^xYmrrrl  on  'iod 
i  J  The  robber  himself ;  was! armed  from  head'  toif oot  M  shin;' 
ing  steel,  and  carried  a  larice  in  his  right  hand,  while  the 
wonderful  shield  was  encased  in  a  cover  of  purplle  silk  and 
strapped  to  his  left  arm ;  but  in  his  left  hand  he  (held  an 
opeii  booky  from  which  he  read  oUt  spells  and  inQantations,'-* 
while  he  guided  the  flight  of  ( th^lMippOgfif  ;^imj^y(;by  the 
pressure  of  his  knees.  i  >;=ni   vk.     .Ij  >:.,ivt  ^  :•     ■ 

r;r:And  now  Bradamante  became  aware  of  ;tb6  ep^)aprdinary 
fact  that  this  enchanter  never  really  came  near  thi^  ;knights 
with  whom  he  fought ;  but  the  spells  tvhlch  he  kept  reading 
from  his  book  made  them  believe  that  he  iwaSjiliishing  at 
them  through  the  air  anddealing  them  sound  kn^oeks  with 
hi^  lance,  while  really  he ,  was  soaring  w^U  put  tpf,  reach  above 
their  heads  and  laughing  in  his  sleeve  at' the  trouble  he  took 
for  nothing.  This  time,  however,  hie  had' little  reason  to 
laugh  *  for  with  the  magic  iing  upon  her  finger  Bradamante 
saw  through  all  his  tricks,  ;^tidimet]th^m; by,  sup^rioar.cunf , 

fy^nv  griffin,  A  fabled  monster,  h'alf  ^^U  and  half  lion;     ■   ■  ,7  :■  .  iiff 
•V^'in-oan-ta'tiona,  iojstmk^ioi  words  for  pj-odii^i;ig^^hftK^§^nts.   ' 


ADVENTURES  OF  BRADAMANTE.        63 


ning.  She  did  not  choose  that  he  should  find  out  too  soon 
that  she  possessed  a  talisman  ^  against  his  spells,  so  she  thrust 
away  at  the  empty  air  with  her  lance  as  though  she  saw  an 
enemy  before  her,  and  kept  raising  and  lowering  her  shield 
as  if  parrying  the  blows  which  he  seemed  to  deal  her. 

For  more  than  an  "hour  they  kept  up  this  game  of  sham 
-fighting,  and  both  of  them  thought  it  capital  fun,  though 
the  magician  little  dreamed  where  the  point  ^f  the  joke 
really  lay.  But  at  kst  he  began  to  think  that  his  fooling 
had  gone  far  enough,  and  that  it  was  time  to  get  to  busi- 
ness;  so  he  wheeled  right  up  in  front  of  Bradamante,  and 
ripping  off  the  silken  cover  of  his  shield  flashed  its  brilliant 
surface  in  her  eyes.  Of  course  the  noble  damsel  was  not 
a^bit  dazzled  at  th^  sight,  but  she  was  not  so  simple  as  to 
show  her  game  to  the  enemy  till  she  had  got  him  well 
within  her  grasp  ;  so  she  tumbled  off  her  horse  as  if  she  had 
been  shot,  and  lay  motionless  and  to  all  appearance  senseless 
on  the^groundJo'^'^^s  aJii:oiiii  dniiiiirg  axii  Lis  biic  ,9l+ai5o  edi 
^  Then  with  a  laugh  of  triumph'the  enchanter  put  back'^the 
shield  into  its  case,  which  he  slung  across  his  saddlebow,  and 
bringing  the  Hippogrif  to  the  earth  with  a  swoop  he  leaped 
^rts  back  and  unwound  an  iron  bhaiflt  from 'his  waist;  for 
Whenever  he  went  out  to  fight  he  carried  this  chain  in  readi- 
■^ss  to  bind  the  knights  whom  the  sight  of  his  shield  laid 
sWooning  at  his  feet.  Giasping  its  links  in  both  hands  he 
Berit  over  tftie  prostrate  maiden  ;  but  this  was  just  the  oppor- 
tunity for  which  Bradamante  had  been  waiting,  and  spring- 
ing up  she  seized  the  astonished  magician  in  her  arms,  ja^d 
threw  him  down  without  a  struggle  on  the  ground,  v'  ^';  I 
^^^Hfefe  sh^  bound  him  firmly  with  his  owh  ehain,  and  un- 
fetced-'hii^-hdltneir-tdf  slay  Mtn ;'  btiiti  what  >  wis IheriJBurprise 


64  A   FIFTH    READER. 

when  the  helmet  fell  off  and  displayed  no  savage  ruffian,  as 
she  expected,  but  the  wrinkled  face  and  white  hair  of  a 
decrepit^  old  man,  who  looked  nearly  eighty  years  old! 
Thereat  Bradamante  put  back  her  sword  into  its  sheath  and 
gazed  in  speechless  wonder  at  her  captive,  who  cried,  ^^  ith 
tears  in  his  eyes,  "  Slay  me,  slay  me.  Sir  Knight,  I  entreat 
you ;  for  you  have  broken  my  power,  and  life  has  become 
hateful  to  me."  But  the  generous  damsel  answered :  "  Nay, 
for  I  have  never  slain  a  boy  nor  an  old  man,  and  I  never  will 
be  guilty  of  so  vile  a  deed.  But  neither  will  I  release  you 
from  your  chains  till  you  have  demolished  this  enchanted 
castle  and  set  at  liberty  all  the  knights  and  ladies  whom  you 
hold  in  shameful  captivity." 

At  this  the  old  man  uttered  a  cry  of  anguish  and  ex- 
claimed: "Noble  Sir  Knight,  have  pity  on  me,  and  ask  of 
me  any  other  service  than  this.  In  all  else  I  am  ready  to 
obey  you ;  and  willingly  will  I  set  free  all  the  ladies  in 
the  castle,  and  all  the  gallant  knights  save  one  alone.  But 
suffer  me  to  keep  my  castle  and  to  guard  from  danger  the 
Courteous  Prince  Roger,  for  love  of  whom  I  have  committed 
all  this  fault.  For  I  am  the  enchanter  Atlas,  who  took  him 
as  an  orphan  babe  from  his  dead  mother's  breast,  after  she 
had  followed  the  King  his  father  to  the  grave.  All  through 
his  boyhood  I  tended  him  as  if  he  were  my  own  son,  and 
when  he  grew  to  man's  estate  and  approved  liimself  the 
bravest  knight  in  Africa,  my  heart  rejoiced  in  his  prowess 
and  renown.  But,  alas  !  the  stars  have  lately  foretold  to  me 
that  he  must  die  by  treachery  in  a  Christian  land ;  and  when 
I  knew  that  I  immediately  built  this  castle,  into  which  I 
entrapped  him  for  his  safety;  and  all  the  other  knights 
and  ladies  I  brought  hither  that  he  might  spend  his  life 
*  de-crep'it,  feeble  fromiige. 


ADVENTURES  OF  BRADAMANTE.        65 

^    ^        /^ . . 

joyously  in  worthy  company.  Suffer  me,  therefore,  generous 
Sir  Knight,  to  keeo- him  under  my  protection;  or  else  kill 
me  without  delay,  for  I  would  rather  die  than  see  him  fall 
into  the  calamities  that  await  him." 

But  Bradamante  answered  him  scornfully:  "  Methinks 
you  must  be  ill  able  to  foretell  the  destinies  of  others  who 
have  proved  so  poor  a  prophet  of  your  own.  Know  that 
high  and  glorious  fortunes  await  the  Prince  Roger  whom 
you  love,  and  you  play  the  part  of  a  bad  friend  to  him  in 
keeping  him  secluded  from  the  field  of  battle  and  fame. 
Wherefore  I  command  you  to  destroy  the  walls  of  this 
castle,  with  the  rock  on  which  it  stands  ;  for  till  you  have 
done  this  I  will  not  release  you  from  your  captivity." 

Poor  Atlas  was  not  at  all  convinced  by  her  assurances, 
but  he  saw  that  he  was  in  her  power  and  could  not  resist 
her  will ;  so  with  a  heavy  heart  he  promised  to  do  as  she 
commanded  him.  Then  she  loosed  the  chain  from  his  arms, 
but  kept  it  still  fastened  round  his  body,  and  held  the  end 
of  it  in  her  hand,  for  fear  he  should  attempt  to  give  her  the 
slip ;  and  Atlas  went  to  the  gate  of  the  castle  and  lifted  up 
a  great  slab  of  marble,  under  which  a  large  hole  about  the 
size  of  an  oven  was  disclosed  in  the  foundation  of  hard  rock. 
From  this  hole  he  took  out  a  long  roll  of  parchment,  covered 
with  written  spells  and  all  manner  of  cabalistic  ^  signs  and 
figures,  which  he  tore  into  a  thousand  pieces  and  scattered 
to  the  four  winds. 

A  second  and  yet  a  third  he  destroyed  in  the  same  way ; 
but  still  the  castle  of  steel  remained  unshaken,  and  Brada- 
mante would  have  thought  he  was  trying  to  play  her  a  trick 
if  the  ring  had  not  told  her  th^it  these  parchment  scrolls 
really  contained  the  spells  by  which  the  spirits  of  the  air 
.  1  cab-a-lis'tic,  mystical ;  occult. 


66  A   FIFTH   READER. 

had  been  constrained  to  build  and  maintain  the  fortress. 
But  there  was  still  a  spirit  imprisoned  in  the  hole,  and  till 
he  was  released  the  castle  would  remain  as  strong  and  im- 
pregnable as  ever.  So  when  Atlas  had  torn  up  the  three 
parchments  and  scattered  abroad  their  fragments,  he 
stooped  down  again  over  the  hole  and  drew  up  a  half- 
gallon  stone  bottle  sealed  at  the  mouth  with  yellow  sealing- 
wax,  on  which  was  stamped  the  impression  of  Virgil's 
magic  signet-ring. 

With  a  deep  sigh  the  poor  old  man  broke  the  seal  and 
drew  out  the  cork  from  beneath  it,  when  a  thick  column  of 
white  vapor  issued  from  the  opening  and  took  the  form  of  a 
beautiful  youth  with  wings  sprouting  from  his  heels  and  the 
winged  cap  of  Mercury  on  his  head,  who  flew  up  into  the  air 
and  was  lost  to  sight  on  the  neighboring  mountains.  Im- 
mediately the  enchanted  castle  and  the  rock  on  which  it 
stood  were  dissolved  into  a  dense  cloud  of  blue  smoke ;  and 
when  the  smoke  cleared  away,  Bradamante  found  that  the 
old  magician  too  had  disappeared,  and  she  was  left  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  valley  with  the  knights  and  ladies  whom 
she  had  delivered,  Roger  among  the  others.  Imagine  if  you 
can  the  joy  with  which  these  noble  lovers  greeted  each 
other,  and  how  hour  after  hour  passed  away  like  a  few  short 
moments  and  left  them  still  deep  in  conversation. 

Translated  and  Adapted. 


THE  NOSE  AND  THE  EYES.  67 

XI.  THE  NOSE  AND  THE  EYES. 

By  William  Cowper. 

BETWEEN  Nose  and  Eyes  a  strange  contest  arose ; 
The  spectacles  set  them,  unhappily,  wrong ; 
The  point  in  dispute  was,  as  all  the  world  knows, 
To  which  the  said  spectacles  ought  to  belong. 

So  Tongue  was  the  lawyer,  and  argued  the  cause, 
With  a  great  deal  of  skill  and  a  wig  full  of  learning, 

While  chief  baron  Ear  sat  to  balance  the  laws, 
So  famed  for  his  talent  in  nicely  discerning. 

''  In  behalf  of  the  Nose,  it  will  quickly  appear, 

And  your  lordship,"  he  said,  '^  will  undoubtedly  find, 

That  the  Nose  has  the  spectacles  always  in  wear. 
Which  amounts  to  possession,  time  out  of  mind." 

Then,  holding  the  spectacles  up  to  the  court, 

"  Your  lordship  observes  they  are  made  with  a  straddle 

As  wide  as  the  ridge  of  the  Nose  is  ;  in  short. 
Designed  to  sit  close  to  it,  just  like  a  saddle. 

"  Again,  would  your  lordship  a  moment  suppose 
('T  is  a  case  that  has  happened,  and  may  be  again) 

That  the  visage  or  countenance  had  not  a  Nose, 

Pray,  who  would,  or  who  could,  wear  spectacles  then? 

"  On  the  whole  it  appears,  and  my  argument  shows, 
With  a  reasoning  the  court  will  never  condemn, 

That  the  spectacles,  plainly,  were  made  for  the  Nose, 
And  the  Nose  was,  as  plainly,  intended  for  them." 


? 


68  A  FIFTH   READER. 

Then,  shifting  his  side  (as  lawyers  know  how), 
He  pleaded  again  in  behalf  of  the  Eyes  : 

But  what  were  his  arguments,  few  people  know, 
For  the  court  did  not  think  them  equally  wise. 

So  his  lordship  decreed,  with  a  grave,  solemn  tone,' 
Decisive  and  clear,  without  one  if  or  but, 

That  whenever,  the  Nose  put  his  spectacles  on, 

By  daylight  or  candle-light,  —  Eyes  should  be  shut. 


XII.     THE   KING^OF  THE   GOLDEN    RIVER; 

or 

THE   BLACK   BROTHERS. 

By  John  Ruskin. 


CHAPTER  L 


IN  a  secluded  and  mountainous  part  of  Styria ^  there  was, 
in  old  time,  a  valley  of  the  most  surprising  and  lux- 
uriant ^  fgj^ilSi^'Qflt  was  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  steep 
and  rocl^^  mountains,  rising  into  peaks,  which  were  alway 
covered  with  snow,  and  from  w^eh  a  number  of  ton 
descended  in  constant  cataracti^  One  of  these  fell  west- 
ward over  the  face  of  a  crag  so  high  that  when  the  sun  had 
set  to  everything  else,  and  all  below  was  darkness,  his  beams 
still  shone  full  upon  this  waterfall,  so  that  it  looked  like  a 
shower  of  gold.     It  was,  therefore,  called  by  the  people  of 

1  Styr'i-a,  a  grand  duchy  belonging  to  the  Austria-Hungarian  Empire, 
located  between  Austria  and  Hungary.  It  is  a  mountainous  country, 
traversed  by  the  Alps,  and  is  rich  in  both  farm  products  and  minerals. 

*  lux-ul-i-ant,  abundant. 


i 


iteep  xj 
ivays  ^ 
'ents  y' 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  69 

the  neighborhood  the  Golden  River.  It  was  strange  that 
none  of  these  streams  fell  into  the  valley  itself.  Thby  all 
descended  on  the  other  I  side  of  the  mountgjyi^  and  wound 
away  through  broad  plains  and  by  popuJi>iis  cities.  But  the 
clouds  were  drawn  so  constantly  to  the  snowy  hills  that  in 
time  of  drp^^^d  heat^^whpn  all  the  country  round  was 
burnt  up,  there  was  still  rain  in  the  little^  valley ;  and  its  , 
crops  were  so  heavy,  and  its  hay  so  higjp^nd  its  apples  so 
red,  and  its  grapes  so  blue,  and  it^^ine  so  rich,  and  its 
honey  so  sweet,  that  it  was  a  marve JEo  every  one  who  beheld 
it,  and  was  commonly  called  the  Treasure  Valley. 

The  whole  of  this  little  valley  belonged  to  three  brothers 
called  Schwg^tz,  Hans,  and  Gluck.  Schwartz  and  Hans,  the 
.  two  elder^jrothers,  were  very  ugly  men,  with  overhanging 
eyebrows  and  small  dull  eyes,  which  were  always  half  shut, 
so. that  you  couldn't  see  into  tliem^  and  always  fancied  that 
they  were  very  far  into  'you.  They  lived  by  farming  the 
Treasure  Valley,  and  very  good  farmers  they  were. 

They  killed  everything  that  did  not  pay  for  its  eating. 
They  shot  the  blackbirds  because  they  pecked  the  fruit, 
and  killed  the  hedgehogs  lest  they  should  suck  the  cows : 
they  poisoned  the  crickets  for  eatingjbhe  crumbs  in  the  - 
kitchen,  and  smothered  the  cicadaV  which  used  to  sing  all 
summer  in  the  lime  trees.  They  worked  their  servants 
without  any  wages  till  they  would  not  work  any  more,  and 
then  quarreled  with  them,  and  turned  them  out  of  doors 
without  paying  them/  It  would  h^ve  been  very  odd  if  with 
such  a  farm  and  sucC  a  systemof  farniing  they  hadn't  got 
very  rich;  and  very  rich  they  did  get.  They  generally  Gon^^^ 
^jtA^trived  to  keep  their  own  corn  by  them  until  it  was  very  dear, 
aad  then  -sell  it  for  twice  its  value ;  jbhey  had  heaps  of  gold 


>u<^i^>-y. 


^^ 


70  A   FIFTH   READER.  ^ 

lying  about  on  their  floors,  yet  it  was  never  known  that  rfey 
had  given,  so  much  as  a  penny  or  a  crust  in  charity  ;'nhey 
never  went  to  mass  ;  grumbled  perpetually  at  paying  tithes  ; T 
and  were,  .in  a  wwdTof  so  cruel  and  grinding  a  temper  as  to 
receive  from  all  those  with  whom  they  had  any  dealings  the 
nickname  of  the  "  Black  Brothers."  o 

The  youngest  brather,  Gluck,  was  as  completely  opposed,  Ml 
in  both  appearance  and  character,  to  his  seniors  as  could  pos- 
sibly be  imagined  or  desired.     He  was  not  above  twelve 
years  old,  fair,  blue-eyed,  and  kind  in  temper  to  every  living 
thing.     He  did  not,  of  course,  agree  particulaj^well  with 
his  brothers ;  or,  rather,  they  did  not  agree  with  him.     He 
was  usually  appointed  to  the   honorable  office  of  turnspit,  \ 
—  when  there  was  anything  to  roast,  which  was  not  often ; 
for,  to  do  the  brothers  justice,  they  were  hardly  less  spatrii^g 
upon  themselves  than  u'ponother  people.     At  other  times  he 
used  to  clean  the  shoes,  floors,  and  sometimes  the  plates,  — 
occaglpnally.iigetting  what  was  left  upon  them  by  way  of 
encouragement,  and  a  wholesome  quantity  of  dry  blows  by- 
way of  education. 

Things  went  oif  in  this  manner  for  a  long  time.  At  last 
came  a  very  wet  summer,  and  everything  went  wrong  in  the 
country  around.  The  hay  had  hardly  been  got  in  when  the 
haystacks  were  floated  bodily  down  to  the  sea  by  an  inunda- 
tion ;  ^  the  vines  were  cut  to  pieces  by  the  hail ;  the  corn 
was  all  killed  by  a  black  blight ;  onlyin  the  Treasure  Valley, 
as  usual,  all  was  safe.  As  it  had  rain  when  there  was  rain 
nowhere  else,  so  it  had  sun  when  there  was  sun  nowhere 
else.  Everybody  came  to  buy  corn  at  the  farm,  and  went 
away  pouring  maledictions  on  the  Black  Brothers.  They 
asked  what  they  liked  and  got  it,  except  from  the  poor 
^  in-un-da'tion,  flood. 


^l 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  71 

people,  who  could  only  beg,  and  several  of  whom  were 
starved  at  their  very  door  without  the  slightest  regard  or 
notice. 

It  was  drawing  towards  winter,  and  very  cold  weather, 
when  one  day  the  two  elder  brothers  had  gone  out,  with  their 
usual  warning  to  little  Gluck,  who  was  left  to  mind  the 
roast,  that  he  was  to  let  nobody  in  and  give  nothing  out. 
Gluck  sat  down  quite  close  to  the  fire,  for  it  was  raining  very 
hard,  and  the  kitchen  walls  were  by  no  means  dry  or  com- 
fortable-looking. He  turned  and  turned,  and  the  roast  got 
nice  and  brown.  "  What  a  pity,"  thought  Gluck,  "  my 
brothers  never  ask  anybody  to  dinner !  I  'm  sure  when 
they  've  got  such  a  nice  piece  of  mutton  as  this,  and  nobody 
else  has  got  so  much  as  a  dry  piece  of  bread,  it  would  do 
their  hearts  good  to  have  somebody  to  eat  it  with  them." 

Just  as  he  spoke  there  came  a  double  knock  at  the  house 
do^,^et  heavy  and  dull,  as  though  the  knocker  had  been 
tied  up,  —  more  like  a  puff  than  a  knock. 

"  It  must  be  the  wind,"  said  Gluck  ;  "  nobody  else  would 
venture  to  knock  double  knocks  at  our  door." 
OWo^  it  was  n't  the  wind ;  there  it  came  again  very  hard, 
and  what  was  part^ularly  astounding,^  the  knocker  seemed 
to  be  in  a  hurry,  and  not  to  be  in  the  least  afraid  of  tlie_can- 
equences,_jGrluck  went  to  the  window,  opened  it,  and  puf^ 
his  head  out  to  see  who  it  was.. 

It  was  the  most  extraordinary  ^  looking  gentleman  he  had 

ever  seen  in  his  life^^     HeTiad  a  very  large  nose,  slightly 

brass-colored  ;  his  cheeks  were  very  round  and  very  red,  and 

might  have  warranted  a  supposition  ^  that  he  had  been  blow- 
.^MHi/vv.  — — 

^  as-tound'ing,  very  surprising. 

'^  ex-traor^di-na-ry,  unusual ;  strange. 

^  sup-po-si'tion,  guess. 


72  A   FIFTH   READER. 

ing  a  refractory  ^  fire  fot  the  last  eight^and-forty  hours  ;  his 
eyes  twinkled  merrily  through  long  silky  eyelashes,  his  mus- 
taches curled  twice  round  like  a  corkscrew  on  each  side  of 
his  mouth,  and  his  hair,  of  a  curious  mixed  pepper-and-salt 
color,  descended  far  over  his  shoulders.  He  was  about  four 
feet  six  in  heig'h^^j.^id  wore  a  conical  pointed  cap  of  nearly 


the  same  altitude,  decorated  with  a  black  feather  some 
three  feet  high.  His  doublet^  was^^DmJgjj^d  behind  into 
something  reseifflSlmg  a  violeBL  exaggeration  ^  of  what  is 


now  termed  a  "  swallojs*'  mil,  Hbut  was  much  obscuredby 
the  swelling  folds  oi  an  enOTmimsblack,  glossy-looking 
cloak,  which  must  have  been  veiy  miich  too  long  in  calm 
weather,  as  the  wind,  whistling  round  the  old  house,  carried 
it  clear  out  from  the  wearer's  shoulders  to  about  four  times 
his  own  length. 

Gluck  was  so  perfectly  paralyzed  *  by  the  singular  appear- 
ance of  his  visitor  that  he  remained  fixed  without  uttering  • 
a  word,  until  thaoWgentleman,  having  performed  aWtner;  Q 
and  a  more  ^/^frei^geti^  conc^itQ  ^-  on  the  knocker,  turned 
round  to  look  after  his  fly-away  cloak.  In  so  doing  he 
caught  sight  of  Gluck's  little  yellow  head  jammed  in  the 
window,  with  its  mouth  and  eyes  very  wide  open  indeed. 

"  Hello  I  "  said  the  little  gentleman,  "  that 's  not  the  way 
to  answer  the  door:  I  'm  wet,  let  "gJ^;" 

To  do  the  little  gentleman  jutsft^  he  was  wet.  His 
feather  hung  down  between  his  legs  like  a  beaten  puppy's 
tail,  .dripping  like  an  umbrella;  and  from  the  euds  of  his 

1  re-frac'to-ry,  difficult  to  manage: 

2  doublet,  a  coat. 

«  ex-ag-ger-a'tion,  enlargement ;  making  more. 

*  par'a  lyzed,  made  weak  or  helpless. 

*  con-cer'tb,  a  sort  of  tune. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  73 

mustaches    the    water    was    running    into    his    waistcoat 
pockets,  and  out  again  like  a  mill  stream. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  sir !  "  said  Gluck.  "  Pm  very  sorry,  but  I 
really  can't." 

"  Can't  what  ?  "  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  I  can't  let  you  in,  sir,  —  I  can't  indeed ;  my  brothers 
would  beat  me  to  death,  sir,  if  I  thought  of  such  a  thing. 
What  do  you  want,  sir  ?  " 

"  Want  ?  "  sa^^he  old  gentleman,  petulantly.^  "  I  want 
fire  and  sh^er ;  and  there  's  your  great  fire  there  blazing, 
crackling,  and  dancing  on  the  walls,  with  nobody  to  feel  it. 
Let  me  in,  I  say ;  I  only  want  to  warm  mysslf." 

Gluck  had  had  his  head,  by  this  time,  so  long  out  of  the 
window,  that  he  began  to  feel  that  it  was  really  unpleas- 
antly cold,  and  when  he  turned  and  saw  the  beautiful  fire 
rustling  and  roaring  and  throwing  long  bright  tongues  by^ 
the  chimney,  as  if  it  were  licking  its  chops  at  the_BaS^j^^^ 
smell  of  the  leg  of  mutton,  his  heart  melted  within  him  that 
it  should  be  burning  away  for  nothing.  "  He  does  look 
very  wet,"  said  little  Gluck ;  "  I  '11  just  let  him  in  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour."  Round  he  went  .to  the  door  and 
opened  it;  and  as  the  little  gentleman  walked  in,  there 
came  a  gust  of  ^ind  through  the  house  that  made  the  old 
chimneys  tS^rT 

"  That 's  a  good  boy,"  said  the  little  gentleman.     "  Never 
mind  your  brothers.  -   I'll  talk  to  them." 
_     "Pray^  sir,  don't  do  any ^uch  thing,"  said  Gluck.     "I 
can't  let  you  stay  till  they  come  ;  they  'd  be  the  death  of 
me." 

"  Dear  me,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  "  I  'm  very  sorry  to 
hear  that.     How  long  may  I  stay  ?  " 

^  pet'u-Iant-ly,  crossly.    ' 


74  A   FIFTH   READER. 

*'  Only  till  the  mutton  's  done,  sir,"  replied  Gluck,  "  and 
it 's  very  brown." 

The  old  gentleman  walked  into  the  kitchen,  and  sat  him- 
self down  on  the  hob,^  with  the  top  of  his  cap  acS^^rfl'oclated 
up  the  chimney,  for  it  was  a  great  deal  too  high  for  the 
roof^^L-- 

"  You  '11  soon  dry  there,  sir,"  said  Gluck,  and  sat  down 
again  to  turn  the  mutton.  But  the  old  gentleman  did  not 
dry  there,  but  went  on  drip,  drip,  dripping  among  the  cin- 
ders, and  the  fire  fizzed,  and  sputtered,  and  began  to  look 
very  black  and  uncomfortable ;  never  was  such  a  cloak ; 
every  fold  in  it  ran  like  a  gutter. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  Gluck,  at  length,  after  watch- 
ing the  water  spreading  in  long  quicksilver-like  streams 
over  the  floor  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour ;  "  may  n't  I  take 
your  cloak?" 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Your  cap,  sir  ?  " 

"  I  am  all  right,  thank  you,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
rather  gruffly. 

*'  But  —  sir  — I  'm  very  sorry,"  said  Gluck,  hesitatingly, 
"but  —  really,  sir — you  're  —  putting  the  fire  out." 

"  It  '11  take  longer  to  do  the  mutton,  then,"  replied  his 
visitor,  dryly. 

Gluck  was  very  much  puzzled  by  the  behavior  of  Jiis 
guest,  it  was  such  a  strange  mixture  of  coolness  and  humil- 
ity. He  turned  away  at  the  string  meditatively  ^  for  another 
five  minutes. 

"  That  mutton  looks  very  nice,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 
"  Can't  you  give  me  a  little  bit?" 

1  hob,  a  shelf  by  the  side  of  the  fire  on  which  things  were  put  to 
keep  them  warm.  ^  med'i-ta-tive-ly,  thoughtfully. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  76 

"  Impossible,  sir,"  said  Gluck. 

"  I  'm  very  hungry,"  continued  the  old  gentleman.  "  I  Ve 
had  nothing  to  eat  yesterday  nor  to-day.  They  surely 
'tJ^ftrfd'^^t^'HKiss  a  bit  from  the  knuckle !  " 

He  spoke  in  so  very  melancholy  a"tOne  that  it  quite 
melted  Gluck's  heart.  "  They  promised  me  one  slice 
to-day,  sir,"  said  he ;  "I  can  give  you  that,  but  not  a  bit 
more." 

''  That 's  a  good  boy,"  said  the  old  gentleman  again. 

Then  Gluck  warmed  a  plate  and  sharpened  a  knife.  ''  I 
do  n't  care  if  I  do  get  beaten  for  it,"  thought  he.  Just  as  he 
had  cut  a  large  slice  out  of  the  mutton  there  came  a  tre- 
mendous rap  at  the  door.  The  old  gentleman  jumped  off 
the  hob,  as  if  it  had  suddenly  become  inconveniently  warm. 
Gluck  fitted  the  slice  into  the  mutton  again,  with  desperate 
efforts  at  exactitude,^  and  ran  to  open  the  door. 

"  What  did  you  keep  us  waiting  in  the  rain  for  ?  "  said 
Schwartz,  as  he  walked  in,  throwing  his  umbrella  in  Gluck's 
face.  "Ay!  what  for  indeed,  you  little  vagabond?"  said 
Hans,  administering  an  educational  blow  on  the  ear  as  he 
followed  his  brother  into  the  kitchen. 

"  Bless  my  soul ! "  said  Schwartz,  when  he  opened  the 
door. 

"  Amen  !  "  said  the  little  gentleman,  who  had  taken  his  cap 
off,  and  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  kitchen,  bowing 
with  the  utmost  possible  velocity .2 

"  Who  's  that  ?  "  said  Schwartz,  catching  up  a  rolling-pin, 
and  turning  to  Gluck-  with  a  fierce  frown. 

"  I  do  n't  know,  indeed,  brother,"  said  Gluck,  in  great 
terror. 

"  How  did  he  get  in  ?  "  roared  Schwartz. 

^  eac-act'i-tude,  exactness;  correctness.         *  ve-loc'i-ty,  swiftness. 


76  A   FIFTH    READER. 

"  My  dear  brother,'*  said  Gluck,  deprecatingly,^  "  he  was 
so  very  wet !  " 

The  rolling-pin  was  descending  on  Gluck's  head ;  but,  at 
the  instant,  the  old  gentleman  interposed  2  his  conical  cap, 
on  which  it  crashed  with  a  shock  that  shook  the  water  out 
of  it  all  over  the  room.  What  was  very  odd,  the  rolling- 
pin  no  sooner  touched  the  cap  than  it  flew  out  of  Schwartz's 
hand,  spinning  like  a  straw  in  a  high  wind,  and  fell  into  the 
corner  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room. 

"  Who  are  you,  sir  ?  "  demanded  Schwartz,  turning  upon 
him. 

"  What 's  your  business  ?  "  snarled  Hans. 

"  I  'm  a  poor  old  man,  sir,"  the  little  gentleman  began 
very  modestly,  "  and  I  saw  your  fire  through  the  window, 
and  begged  shelter  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  Have  the  goodness  to  walk  out  again,  then,"  said 
Schwartz.  "  We  've  quite  enough  water  in  our  kitchen, 
without  making  it  a  drying-house." 

"  It  is  a  cold  day  to  turn  an  old  man  out  in,  sir ;  look  at 
my  gray  hairs ! "  They  hung  down  to  his  shoulders,  as  I 
told  you  before. 

"  Ay  !  "  said  Hans,  "  there  are  enough  of  them  to  keep 
you  warm.     Walk  !  " 

"  I  'm  very,  very  hungry,  sir ;  could  n't  you  spare  me  a 
bit  of  bread  before  I  go  ?  " 

"  Bread,  indeed  !  "  said  Schwartz.  "  Do  you  suppose 
wo  've  nothing  to  do  with  our  bread  but  to  give  it  to  such 
red-nosed  fellows  as  you  ?  " 

"  Why  do  n't  you  sell  your  feather  ?  "  said  Hans,  sneer- 
ingly.     "  Out  with  you  I  " 

^  depre-ca-ting-ly,  in  a  pleading  way. 
•     •    •  2  m-ter-posedVpatbetweeu-. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  77 

"  A  little  bit,"  said  the  old  gentleman. 

"  Be  ofP!"  said  Schwartz. 

"  Pray,  gentlemen  !  " 

"  Off  and  be  hanged !  "  cried  Hans,  seizing  him  by  the 
collar.  But  he  had  no  sooner  touched  the  old  gentleman's 
collar  than  away  he  went  after  the  rolling-pin,  spinning 
round  and  round  till  he  fell  in  the  corner  on  top  of  it. 
Then  Schwartz  was  very  angry,  and  ran  at  the  old  gentle- 
man to  turn  him  out ;  but  he  also  had  hardly  touched  him, 
when  away  he  went  after  Hans  and  the  rolling-pin,  and  hit 
his  head  against  the  wall  as  he  tumbled  into  the  corner. 
And  so  there  they  lay,  all  three. 

Then  the  old  gentleman  spun  himself  round  with  velocity 
in  the  opposite  direction,  continued  to  spin  until  his  long 
cloak  was  all  wound  neatly  about  him,  clapped  his  cap  on 
his  head,  very  much  on  one  side  (for  it  could  not  stand 
upright  without  going  through  the  ceiling),  gave  an  addi- 
tional twist  to  his  corkscrew  mustaches,  and  replied  with 
perfect  coolness :  "  Gentlemen,  I  wish  you  a  very  good 
morning.  At  twelve  o'clock  to-night  I  '11  call  again  ;  after 
such  a  refusal  of  hospitality  as  I  have  just  experienced, 
you  will  not  be  surprised  if  that  visit  is  the  last  I  ever 
pay  you/' 

"  If  I  ever  catch  you  here  again,"  muttered  Schwartz, 
coming  half  frightened  out  of  the  corner  —  but  before  be 
could  finish  his  sentence  the  old  gentleman  had  shut  the 
house  door  behind  him  with  a  great  bang ;  and  there  drove 
past  the  window  at  the  same  instant  a  wreath  of  ragged 
cloud  that  whirled  and  rolled  away  down  the  valley  in  all 
manner  of  shapes,  turning  over  and  over  in  the  air,  and 
melting  away  at  last  in  a  gush  of  rain. 

"  A   very   pretty   business,    indeed,   Mr.    Gluck ! "   said 


78  A   FIFTH   READER. 

Schwartz.  "  Dish  the  mutton,  sir !  If  ever  I  catch  you 
at  such  a  trick  again  —  bless  me,  why,  the  mutton 's 
been  cut ! " 

"You  promised  me  one  slice,  brother,  you  know,"  said 
Gluck. 

"  Oh  !  and  you  were  cutting  it  hot,  I  suppose,  and  going 
to  catch  all  the  gravy.  It  '11  be  long  before  I  promise  you 
such  a  thing  again.  Leave  the  room,  sir,  and  have  the 
kindness  to  wait  in  the  coal  cellar  till  I  call  you ! " 

Gluck  left  the  room  melancholy  enough.  The  brothers 
ate  as  much  as  they  could,  locked  the  rest  in  the  cupboard, 
and  proceeded  to  get  very  drunk  after  dinner. 

Such  a  night  as  it  was  I  Howling  wind  and  rushing 
rain  without  intermission !  The  brothers  had  just  sense 
enough  left  to  put  up  all  the  shutters  and  double-bar 
the  door  before  they  went  to  bed.  They  usually  slept 
in  the  same  room.  As  the  clock  struck  twelve  they 
were  both  awakened  by  a  tremendous  crash.  Their  door 
broke  open  with  a  violence  that  shook  the  house  from 
top  to  bottom. 

"  What 's  that  ?  "  cried  Schwartz,  stai*ting  up  in  his  bed. 

"  Only  I,"  said  the  little  gentleman. 

The  two  brothers  sat  up  on  their  bolsters  and  stared  into 
the  darkness.  The  room  was  full  of  water,  and  by  the 
misty  moonbeam  which  found  its  way  through  a  hole 
in  the  shutter  they  could  see  in  the  midst  of  it  an  immense 
foam  globe,  spinning  round  and  bobbing  up  and  down  like 
a  cork,  on  which,  as  on  a  most  luxurious  cushion,  reclined 
the  little  old  gentleman,  cap  and  all.  There  was  plenty  of 
room  for  it  now,  for  the  roof  was  off. 

"Sorry  to  incommode^  you,"  said  their  visitor,  iron- 
1  in-com-mode',  to  cause  inconvenience. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER. 


79 


ically.^  "  I  'm  afraid  your  beds  are  dampish ;  perhaps  you 
had  better  go  to  your  brother's  room ;  I  've  left  the  ceiling 
on  there." 

They  required  no  second  admonition,^  but  rushed  into 
Gluck's  room,  wet  through,  and  in  an  agony  of  terror. 

"  You  '11  find  my  card  on  the  kitchen  table,"  the  old 
gentleman  called  after  them.     "  Remember,  the  last  visit !  " 

"Pray  Heaven  it  may!"  said  Schwartz,  shuddering. 
And  the  foam  globe  disappeared. 

Dawn  came  at  last,  and  the  two  brothers  looked  out  of 
Gluck's  little  window  in  the  morning.  The  Treasure  Valley 
was  one  mass  of  ruin  and  desolation.  The  inundation  had 
swept  away  trees,  crops,  and  cattle,  and  left  in  their  stead  a 
waste  of  red  sand  and  gray  mud.  The  two  brothers  crept 
shivering  and  horror-struck  into  the  kitchen.  The  water 
had  gutted  the  whole  first  floor ;  corn,  money,  almost  every 
movable  thing  had  been  swept  away,  and  there  was  left 
only  a  small  white  card  on  the  kitchen  table.  On  it,  in 
large,  breezy,  long-legged  letters,  were  engraved  the  words ; 


^  i-ron'ic-al-ly,  so  as   to  make   fun  of,  by  saying  one   thing  and 
meaning  another. 

2  ad-mo-ni'tion,  adviac. 


80  A   FIFTH   READER. 


CHAPTER  II. 


SOUTHWEST  WIND,  Esquire,  was  as  good  as  his 
word.  After  the  momentous  ^  visit  above  related  he 
entered  the  Treasure  Valley  no  more  ;  and  what  was  worse, 
he  had  so  much  influence  with  his  relations,  the  West 
Winds  in  general,  and  used  it  so  effectually ,2  that  they  all 
adopted  a  similar  line  of  conduct.  So  no  rain  fell  in  the 
valley  from  one  year's  end  to  another.  Though  everything 
remained  green  and  flourishing  in  the  plains  below,  the 
inheritance  of  the  three  brothers  was  a  desert.  What  had 
once  been  the  richest  soil  in  the  kingdom,  became  a  shifting 
heap  of  red.  sand ;  and  the  brothers,  unable  longer  to  con- 
tend with  the  adverse  skies,  abandoned  their  valueless 
patrimony  3  in  despair,  to  seek  some  means  of  gaining  a 
livelihood  among  the  cities  and  people  of  the  plains.  All 
their  money  was  gone,  and  they  had  nothing  left  but  some 
curious  old-fashioned  pieces  of  gold  plate,  the  last  remnants 
of  their  ill-gotten  wealth. 

"  Suppose  we  turn  goldsmiths  ?  "  said  Schwartz  to  Hans, 
as  they  entered  the  large  city.  "  It  is  a  good  knave's  trade  ; 
we  can  put  a  great  deal  of  copper  into  the  gold  without  any 
one's  finding  it  out." 

The  thought  was  agreed  to  be  a  very  good  one  ;  they 
hired  a  furnace,  and  turned  goldsmiths.  But  two  slight  cir- 
cumstances affected  their  trade :  the  first,  that  people  did 
not  approve  of  the  coppered  gold  ;  the  second,  that  the  two 
elder  brothers,  whenever  they  sold  anything,  used  to  leave 
little  Gluck  to  mind  the  furnace,  and  go  and  drink  out  the 

1  mo-men'tous,  very  important. 

2  ef-fect'u-al-ly,  with  effect ;  well. 

*  pat'ri-mo-ny,  an  inherited  estate. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  81 

money  in  the  ale-house  next  door.  So  they  melted  all  their 
gold  without  making  money  enough  to  buy  more,  and  were 
at  last  reduced  to  one  large  drinking-mug  which  an  uncle  of 
his  had  given  to  little  Gluck,  and  which  he  was  fond  of  and 
would  not  have  parted  with  for  the  world,  though  he  never 
drank  anything  out  of  it  but  milk  and  water.  The  mug 
was  a  very  old  mug  to  look  at.  The 
handle  was  formed  of  two  wreaths 
of  flowing  golden  hair,  so  finely  spun 
that  it  looked  more  like  silk  than 
metal,  and  these  wreaths  descended 
into,  and  mixed  with,  a  beard  of 
whiskers  of  the  same  exquisite  w^ork- 
manship,  which  surrounded  and 
decorated  a  very  fierce  little  face  of 
the  reddest  gold  imaginable,  right  in 
the  front  of  the  mug,  with  a  pair  of  eyes  in  it  which  seemed 
to  command  its  whole  circumference.^  It  was  impossible 
to  drink  out  of  the  mug  without  being  subjected  to  an  in- 
tense gaze  out  of  the  side  of  these  eyes ;  and  Schwartz 
positively  averred  ^  that  once,  after  emptying  it,  full  of 
Rhenish,  seventeen  times,  he  had  seen  them  wink !  When 
it  came  to  the  mug's  turn  to  be  made  into  spoons  it  half 
broke  poor  little  Gluck's  heart,  but  the  brothers  only 
laughed  at  him,  tossed  the  mug  into  the  melting  pot,  and 
staggered  out  to  the  alehouse,  leaving  him,  as  usual,  to  pour 
the  gold  into  bars  when  it  was  ready. 

When  they  were  gone,  Gluck  took  a  farewell  look  at  his 
old  friend  in  the  melting  pot.  The  flowing  hair  was  all 
gone ;  nothing  remained  but  the  red  nose  and  the  sparkling 

^  cir-cum'fer-ence,  the  outside  ;  that  which  surrounds. 
'  a-verred',  said. 
7 — 5r 


82  A   FIFTH   READER. 

eyes,  which  looked  more  malicious  ^  than  ever.  "  Andr  no 
wonder,"  thought  Gluck,  "  after  being  treated  in  that  way." 
He  sauntered  disconsolately  to  the  window  and  sat  himself 
down,  to  catch  the  fresh  evening  air  and  escape  the  hot 
breath  of  the  furnace.  Now  tliis  window  commanded  a 
direct"  view  of  the  range  of  mountains  which,  as  I  told  you 
before,  overhung  the  Treasure  Valley,  and  more  especially 
of  the  peak  from  which  fell  the  Golden  River.  It  was  just 
at  the  close  of  the  day,  and  when  Gluck  sat  down  at  the.  win- 
dow he  saw  the  rocks  of  the  mountain  tops  all  crimson  and 
purple  with  the  sunset,  and  there  were  bright  tongues  of 
fiery  cloud  burning  and  quivering  about  them ;  and  the 
river,  brighter  than  all,  fell  in  a  waving  column  of  pure 
gold  from  precipice  to  precipice,  with  the  double  arch  of  a 
broad  purple  rainbow  stretched  across  it,  flushing  and  fading 
alternately  ^  in  the  wreaths  of  spray. 

"Ah !  "  said  Gluck,  aloud,  after  he  had  looked  at  it  for  a 
while,  "  if  that  river  were  really  all  gold,  what  a  nice  thing 
it  would  be !  " 

"  No,  it  would  n't,  Gluck,"  said  a  clear,  metallic  voice 
close  at  his  ear. 

"  Bless  me !  what 's  that  ?  "  exclaimed  Gluck,  jumping  up. 
There  was  nobody  there.  He  looked  round  the  room  and 
under  the  table  and  a  great  many  times  behind  him,  but 
there  was  certainly  nobody  there,  and  he  sat  down  again  at 
the  window.  This  time  he  did  n't  speak,  but  he  could  n't 
help  thinking  again  that  it  would  be  very  convenient  if  the 
river  were  really  all  gold. 

"  Not  at  all,  my  boy,"  said  the  voice,  louder  than  before. 

"Bless  me!"  said  Gluck  again,  "what  is  that?"  He 
looked  again  into  all  the  corners  and  cupboards,  and  then 

1  ma-li'cious,  wicked ;  wanting  to  injure.       ^  al-ter'nate-ly,  in  turn. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  83 

began  turning  round  and  round  as  fast  as  he  could  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  thinking  that  there  was  somebody  be- 
hind him,  when  the  same  voice  struck  again  on  his  ear.  It 
was  singing  now,  very  merrily,  "  Lala-lira-la ;  "  no  words, 
only  a  soft,  running,  effervescent^  melody,  something  like 
that  of  a  kettle  on  the  boil.  Gluck  looked  out  of  the  win- 
dow. No,  it  was  certainly  in  the  house.  Upstairs  and 
downstairs.  No,  it  was  certainly  in  that  very  room,  coming 
in  quicker  time  and  clearer  notes  every  moment.  "  Lala- 
lira-la."  All  at  once  it  struck  Gluck  that  it  sounded  nearer 
the  furnace.  He  ran  to  the  opening,  and  looked  in  ;  yes,  he 
saw  right,  —  it  seemed  to  be  coming,  not  only  out  of  the  fur- 
nace but  out  of  the  pot.  He  uncovered  it  and  ran  back  in 
a  great  fright,  for  the  pot  was  certainly  singing !  He  stood 
in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room  with  his  hands  up  and  his 
mouth  open  for  a  minute  or  two,  when  the  singing  stopped 
and  the  voice  became  clear  and  pronunciative.^ 

"  Hollo  ! "  said  the  voice. 

Gluck  made  no  answer. 

"  Hollo,  Gluck,  my  boy  !  "  said  the  pot  again. 

Gluck  summoned  all  his  energies,  walked  straight  up  to 
the  crucible,^  drew  it  out  of  the  furnace,  and  looked  in. 
The  gold  was  all  melted,  and  its  surface  was  as  smooth  and 
polished  as  a  river ;  but  instead  of  reflecting  little  Gluck's 
head  as  he  looked  in,  he  saw  meeting  his  glance  from  be- 
neath the  gold  the  red  nose  and  sharp  eyes  of  his  old  friend 
of  the  mug,  a  thousand  times  redder  and  sharper  than  ever 
he  had  seen  them  in  his  life. 

"  Come,  Gluck,  my  boy,"  said  the  voice  out  of  the  pot 
again,  "  I  'm  all  right ;  pour  me  out !  " 

^  ef-fer-ves'cent,  bubbling.  2  pro-nun'ci-a-tive,  distinct. 

*  cru'ci-bie,  melting  pot. 


84  A   FIFTH   READER. 


But  Gluck  was  too  much  astonished  to  do  anything  of 
the  kind. 

"  Pour  me  out,  I  say  !  "  said  the  voice,  rather  gruffly. 

Still  Gluck  could  n't  move. 

"  Will  you  pour  me  out  ?  "  said  the  voice,  passionately. 
"  I  'm  too  hot." 

By  a  violent  effort,  Gluck  recovered  the  use  of  his  limbs, 
took  hold  of  the  crucible  and  sloped  it,  so  as  to  pour  out  the 
gold.  But  instead  of  a  liquid  stream  there  came  out  first 
a  pair  of  little  yellow  legs,  then  some  coat-tails,  then  a  pair 
of  arms  stuck  akimbo,^  and  finally  the  well-known  head  of 
his  friend  the  mug ;  all  which  articles,  uniting  as  they  rolled 
out,  stood  up  energetically  on  the  floor  in  the  shape  of  a 
little  golden  dwarf  about  a  foot  and  a  half  high. 

"  That 's  rigiit ! "  said  the  dwarf,  stretching  out  first  his 
legs  and  th^n  his  arms,  and  then  shaking  his  head  up  and 
down,  and  as  far  round  as  it  would  go,  for  five  minutes  with- 
out stopping ;  apparently  with  the  view  of  ascertaining  ^  if 
he  were  quite  correctly  put  together,  while  Gluck  stood  con- 
templating 3  him  in  speechless  amazement.  He  was  dressed 
in  a  slashed  doublet  of  spun  gold,  so  fine  in  its  texture  that 
the  prismatic  *  colors  gleamed  over  it  as  if  on  a  surface  of 
mother-of-pearl;  and  over  this  brilliaht  doublet  his  hair 
and  beard  fell  full  half-way  to  the  ground  in  waving  curls 
so  exquisitely  delicate  that  Gluck  could  hardly  tell  where 
they  ended ;  they  seemed  to  melt  into  air.  The  features  of 
the  face,  however,  .were  by  no  means  finished  with  the  same 
delicacy ;  they  were  rather  coarse,  slightly  inclining  to  cop- 

^  arms  a-kim'bo,  with  hands  on  the  hips. 
2  as-cer-tain'ing,  finding  out. 

*  con'tem-pla-ting,  considering ;  looking  at. 

*  pris-matlc,  made  by  a  prism ;  like  the  rainbow. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  85 

pery  in  complexion,  and  indicative,  in  expression,  of  a  very 
pertinacious  ^  and  intractable  ^  disposition  in  their  small  pro- 
prietor. When  the  dwarf  had  finished  his  self-examination, 
he  fixed  his  small  sharp  eyes  full  on  Gluck,  and  stared  at 
him  deliberately  ^  for  a  minute  or  two. 

"  No,  it  would  n't,  Gluck,  my  boy,"  said  the  little  man. 

This  was  certainly  rather  an  abrupt  and  unconnected 
mode  of  commencing  conversation.  It  might  indeed  be  sup- 
posed to  refer  to  the  course  of  Gluck's  thoughts,  which  had 
first  produced  the  dwarf's  observation  out  of  the  pot ;  but 
whatever  it  referred  to,  Gluck  had  no  inclination  to  dispute 
the  dictum.* 

"  Would  n't  it,  sir  ?  "  said  Gluck,  very  mildly  and  submis- 
sively indeed. 

"  No,"  said  the  dwarf,  conclusively  ;  ^  "  no,  it  would  n't." 
And  with  that  the  dwarf  pulled  his  cap  hard  over  his  eyes, 
and  took  two  turns,  of  three  feet  long,  up  and  down  the 
room,  lifting  his  legs  very  high  and  setting  them  down  very 
hard.  This  pause  gave  time  for  Gluck  to  collect  his  thoughts 
a  little,  and  seeing  no  great  reason  to  view  his  diminutive 
visitor  with  dread,  and  feeling  his  curiosity  overcome  his 
great  amazement,  he  ventured  on  a  question  of  peculiar 
delicacy. 

"  Pray,  sir,"  said  Gluck,  rather  hesitatingly,  "  were  you 
my  mug  ?  " 

On  which  the  little  man  turned  sharp  round,  walked 
straight  up  to  Gluck,  and  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 
''  I,"  said  the  little  man,  "  am  the  King  of  the  Golden  River." 

^  per-ti-na'cious(shus),  persistent. 

2  in-tract'a-ble,  hard  to  manage. 

2  de-lib'er-ate-ly,  thoughtfully ;  slowly. 

*  dic'tum,  word  ;  what  had  been  said. 

fi  con-clu'sive-ly,  as  if  it  ended  the  matter. 


86  A   FIFTH   READER. 

Whereupon  he  turned  about  again  and  took  two  more 
turns,  some  six  feet  long,  in  order  to  allow  time  for  the 
consternation  1  which  this  announcement  produced  in  his 
auditor  to  evaporate .^  After  which  he  again  walked  up  to 
Gluck  and  stood  still,  as  if  expecting  some  comment  on  his 
communication. 

Gluck  determined  to  say  something,  at  all  events.  "  I 
hope  your  Majesty  is  very  well !  "  said  Gluck. 

"  Listen  ! "  said  the  little  man,  without  deigning  to  reply 
to  this  polite  inquiry.  "  I  am  the  King  of  what  you  mortals 
call  the  Golden  River.  The  shape  you  saw  me  in  was 
owing  to  the  malice  of  a  stronger  king,  from  whose  enchant- 
ments you  have  this  instant  freed  me.  What  I  have  seen  of 
you,  and  your  conduct  to  your  wicked  brothers,  renders  me 
willing  to  serve  you  ;  therefore,  attend  to  what  I  tell  you ! 
Whoever  shall  climb  to  the  top  of  the  mountain  from  which 
you  see  the  Golden  River  issue,  and  shall  cast  into  the 
stream  at  its  source  three  drops  of  holy  water,  for  him,  and 
for  him  only,  the  river  shall  turn  to  gold.  But  no  one, 
failing  in  his  first,  can  succeed  in  a  second  attempt ;  and  if 
any  one  shall  cast  unholy  water  into  the  river,  it  will  over- 
whelm him,  and  he  will  become  a  black  stone." 

So  saying,  the  King  of  the  Golden  River  turned  away 
and  deliberately  walked  into  the  hottest  flame  of  the  fur- 
nace. His  figure  became  red,  white,  transparent,  dazzling,  — 
a  blaze  of  intense  light,  —  rose,  trembled,  and  disappeared. 
The  King  of  the  Golden  River  had  evaporated. 

"  Oh !  "  cried  poor  Gluck,  running  to  look  up  the  chimney 
after  him.  "  Oh,  dear,  dear,  dear  me  !  My  mug !  my  mug  ! 
my  mug ! " 

1  con-ster-na'tion,  terror;  ,friglit. 

2  e-vap'o-rate,  literally,  to  disappear  in  vapor;  to  pass  away. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER. 


87 


CHAPTER  in. 


,T 


^HE  King  of 
the  Golden 
'fiXJk^  River  had  hard- 
ly made  the  ex- 
j  W  ^  traordinary    exit  ^ 
[iM     related  in  the  last 
chapter,     before 
Schwartz  and  Hans 
imi  H  \  came   roaring    into 
■  J  "-^ ""      the  house,  very  sav- 
agely drunk.     The  disco v- 
jU'ery  of  the  total  loss  of  their  last  piece 
of  plate  had  the  effect  of  sobering  them 
just  enough  to  enable  them  to  stand  over 
Gluck  beating  him  very  steadily  for  half  an  hour ;  at  the 
expiration  2  of  which  period  they  dropped  into  a  couple  of 
chairs  and  requested  to  know  what  he  had  to  say  for  him- 
^  ex'it,  going  out  2  ex-pi-ra'tion,  end. 


88  A  FIFTH   READER. 

self.  Gluck  told  them  his  story,  of  which,  of  course,  they 
did  not  believe  a  word.  They  beat  him  again  till  their  arms 
were  tired,  and  then  staggered  to  bed.  In  the  morning, 
however,  the  steadiness  with  which  he  adhered  ^  to  his  story 
obtained  for  him  some  degree  of  credence ;  ^  the  immediate 
consequence  of  which  was  that  the  two  brothers,  after 
wrangling  a  long  time  on  the  knotty  question  which  of 
them  should  try  his  fortune  first,  drew  their  swords  and 
began  fighting.  The  noise  of  the  fray  alarmed  the  neigh- 
bors, who,  finding  that  they  could  not  pacify  the  com- 
batants, sent  for  the  constable. 

Hans,  on  hearing  this,  contrived  to  escape,  and  hid  him- 
self ;  but  Schwartz  was  taken  before  the  magistrate,  fined  for 
breaking  the  peace,  and,  having  drunk  out  his  last  penny 
the  evening  before,  was  thrown  into  prison  till  he  should 
pay. 

When  Hans  heard  this  he  was  much  delighted,  and 
determined  to  set  out  immediately  for  the  Golden  River. 
How  to  get  the  holy  water  was  the  question.  He  went  to 
the  priest,  but  the  priest  could  not  give  holy  water  to  so 
abandoned  a  creature.  So  Hans  went  to  vespers  in  the 
evening  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  and,  under  pretense 
of  crossing  himself,  stole  a  cupful  and  returned  home  in 
triumph. 

Next  morning  he  got  up  before  the  sun  rose,  put  the  holy 
water  into  a  strong  flask,  and  two  bottles  of  wine  and  some 
meat  in  a  basket,  slung  them  over  his  back,  took  his  alpine 
staff  3  in  his  hand,  and  set  off  for  the  mountains. 

On  his  way  out  of  town  he  had  to  pass  the  prison,  and 
as  he  looked  in  at  the  windows,  whom  should  he  see  but 

^  ad-hercd',  stuck  to.  ^  ore'denoe,  belief. 

8  alpine  steifF,  a  stout  stick  or  cane  such  as  is  used  in  cjimbing  the  Alps. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  89 

Schwartz  himself  peeping  out  of  the  bars  and  looking  very 
disconsolate  ! 

"Good  morning,  brother,"  said  Hans.  "Have  you  any 
message  for  the  King  of  the  Golden  River  ?  " 

Schwartz  gnashed  his  teeth  with  rage,  and  shook  the  bars 
with  all  his  strength;  but  Hans  only  laughed  at  him, 
and,  advising  him  to  make  himself  comfortable  till  he  came 
back  again,  shouldered  his  basket,  shook  the  bottle  of  holy 
water  in  Schwartz's  face  till  it  frothed  again,  and  marched 
off  in  the  highest  spirits  in  the  world. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  morning  that  might  have  made  any  one 
happy,  even  with  no  Golden  River  to  seek  for.  Level  lines 
of  dewy  mist  lay  stretched  along  the  valley,  out  of  which 
rose  the  massy  mountains,  —  their  lower  cliffs  in  pale  gray 
shadow  hardly  distinguishable  from  the  floating  vapor, 
but  gradually  ascending  till  they  caught  the  sunlight, 
which  ran  in  sharp  touches  of  ruddy  color  along  the  an 
gular  crags,  and  pierced,  in  long  level  rays,  through  their 
fringes  of  spear-like  pine.  Far  above  shot  up  red  splintered 
masses  of  castellated^  rocks,  jagged  and  shivered  into 
myriads  ^  of  fantastic  forms,  with  here  and  there  a  streak  of 
sunlit  snow  traced  down  their  chasms  like  a  line  of  forked 
lightning;  and  far  beyond  and  far  above  all  these,  fainter 
than  the  morning  cloud,  but  purer  and  changeless,  slept,  in 
the  blue  sky,  the  utmost  peaks  of  the  eternal  snow. 

The  Golden  River,  which  sprang  from  one  of  the  lower 
and  snowless  elevations,  was  now  nearly  in  shadow ;  all  but 
the  uppermost  jets  of  spray,  which  rose  like  slow  smoke 
above  the  undulating  ^  line  of  the  cataract,  and  floated  away 
in  feeble  wreaths  upon  the  morning  wind. 

*  cas'tel-Ia-ted,  like  a  castle.  ^  myr'i-ads,  many  thousands. 

^  un'du-lat-ing,  waving. 


90  A  FIFTH   READER. 

On  this  object,  and  on  this  alone,  Hans's  eyes  and  thoughts 
were  fixed ;  forgetting  the  distance  he  had  to  traverse,  he 
set  off  at  an  imprudent  rate  of  walking,  which  greatly 
exhausted  him  before  he  had  scaled  the  first  range  of 
the  green  and  low  hills.  He  was,  moreover,  surprised  on 
surmounting  them  to  find  that  a  large  glacier,^  of  whose 
existence,  notwithstanding  his  previous  knowledge  of  the 
mountains,  he  had  been  absolutely  ignorant,  lay  between 
him  and  the  source  of  the  Golden  River.  He  entered 
on  it  with  the  boldness  of  a  practiced  mountaineer;  yet 
he  thought  he  had  never  traversed  so  strange  or  so  danger- 
ous a  glacier  in  his  life. 

The  ice  was  excessively  ^  slippery,  and  out  of  all  its 
chasms  came  wild  sounds  of  gushing  water;  not  monoto- 
nous^ or  low,  but  changeful  and  loud,  rising  occasionally 
into  drifting  passages  of  wild  melody,  then  breaking  off 
into  short,  melancholy  tones,  or  sudden  shrieks,  resembling 
those  of  human  voices  in  distress  or  pain.  The  ice  was 
broken  into  thousands  of  confused  shapes,  but  none,  Hans 
thought,  like  the  ordinaiy  forms  of  splintered  ice.  There 
seemed  a  curious  expression  about  their  outlines,  —  a  per- 
petual *  resemblance  to  living  features,  distorted  and  scorn- 
ful.    Myriads  of  deceitful  shadows  and  lurid  ^  lights  played 

1  gla'cier,  a  river  of  floating. ice.  Glaciers  are  found  at  the  foot  of 
mountains  so  high  that  the  snow  never  melts  from  their  tops.  The 
great  masses  of  snow  push  down  bodies  of  ice  to  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tains and  out  into  the  valleys.  These  move  very  slowly,  and  carry 
along 'With  them  great  quantities  of  earth  and  rocks.  They  are  most 
beautiful  to  behold.  The  greatest  glaciers  are  found  in  the  Al,ps 
Mountains,  in  Europe,  and,  in  North  America,  among  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains in  Ala.ska  and  British  Columbia. 

^  ex-cess'ive-ly,  very.  '^  lu'rid,  ghastly  pale. 

8  mo-not'o-nou8,  on  the  same  note ;  tedious. 

*  per-pet'u-al,  never  ending. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  91 

and  floated  about  the  pale  blue  pinnacles,^  dazzling  and 
confusing  the  sight  of  the  traveler ;  while  his  ear  grew  dull 
and- his  head  dizzy  with  the  constant  .gush  and  roar  of  the 
concealed  waters. 

These  painful  circumstances  increased  upon  him  as  he 
advanced;  the  ice  crashed  and  yawned  into  fresh  chasms 
at  his  feet,  tottering  spires  nodded  around  him  and  fell 
thundering  across  his  path ;  and  though  he  had  repeatedly 
faced  these  dangers  on  the  most  terrific  glaciers  and  in  the 
wildest  weather,  it  was  with  a  new  and  oppressive  feeling 
of  panic  terror  that  he  leaped  the  last  chasm,  and  flung 
himself,  exhausted  and  shuddering,  on  the  firm  turf  of  the 
mountain. 

He  had  been  compelled  to  abandon  his  basket  of  food, 
which  became  a  perilous  incumbrance  ^  on  the  glacier,  and 
had  now  no  means  of  refreshing  himself  but  by  breaking 
off  and  eatmg  some  of  the  pieces  of  ice.  This,  however, 
relieved  his  thirst ;  an  hour's  repose  recruited  ^  his  hardy 
frame,  and  with  the  indomitable  ^  spirit  of  avarice  he 
resumed  his  laborious  journey.  - 

His  way  lay  straight  up  a  ridge  of  bare  rocks,  without  a 
blade  of  grass  to  relieve  the  foot  or  a  projecting  angle  to 
afford  an  inch  of  shade  from  the  south  sun.  It  was  past 
noon,  and  the  rays  beat  intensely  upon  the  steep  path, 
while  the  whole  atmosphere  was  motionless  and  penetrated 
with  heat.  Intense  heat  was  soon  added  to  the  bodily 
fatigue  with  which  Hans  was  now  afflicted;  glance  after 
glance  he  cast  on  the  flask  of  water  which  hung  at  his  belt. 
" Three  drops  are  enough,"  at  last  thought  he ;  "I  may,  at 
least,  cool  my  lips  with  it." 

*  pin'na-cles,  heights.  ^  re-cruit'ed,  refreshed. 

2  in-cum'brance,  hindrance.        *  in-dom'i-ta-ble,  unconquerable. 


92  A   FIFTH   READER. 

He  opened  the  flask  and  was  raising  it  to  his  lips,  when  his 
eye  fell  on  an  object  on  the  rock  beside  him.  He  thought  it 
moved.  It  was  a  small  dog,  apparently  in  the  last  agony  of 
death  from  thirst.  Its  tongue  was  out,  its  jaws  dry,  its 
limbs  extended  lifelessly,  and  a  swarm  of  black  ants  were 
crawling  about  its  lips  and  throat.  Its  eye  moved  to  the 
bottle  which  Hans  held  in  his  hand.  He  raised  it,  drank, 
spurned  ^  the  animal  with  his  foot,  and  passed  on.  And  he 
did  not  know  how  it  was^  but  he  thought  that  a  strange 
shadow  had  suddenly  come  across  the  blue  sky. 

The  path  became  steeper  and  more  rugged  every  moment ; 
and  the  high  hill  air,  instead  of  refreshing  him,  seemed  to 
throw  his  blood  into  a  fever.  The  noise  of  the  hill  cata- 
racts sounded  like  mockery  in  his  ear;  they  were  all  distant, 
and  his  thirst  increased  every  moment.  Another  hour 
passed,  and  again  he  looked  down  to  the  flask  at  his  side  ;  it 
was  half  empty,  but  there  was  much  more  than  three  drops 
in  it.  He  stopped  to  open  it,  and  again,  as  he  did  so,  some- 
thing moved  in  the  path  before  him.  It  was  a  fair  child 
stretched  nearly  lifeless  on  the  rock,  its  breast  heaving  with 
thirst,  its  eyes  closed,  and  its  lips  parched  and  burning. 
Hans  eyed  it  deliberately,  drank,  and  passed  on.  And  a 
dark  gray  cloud  came  over  the  sun,  and  long,  snake-like 
shadows  crept  up  along  the  mountain  sides.  Hans  struggled 
on.  The  sun  was  sinking,  but  its  descent  seemed  to  bring 
no  coolness  ;  the  leaden  weight  of  the  dead  air  pressed  upon 
his  brow  and  heart,  but  the  goal  was  near.  He  saw  the  cat- 
aract of  the  Golden  River  springing  from  the  hillside,  scarcely 
five  hundred  feet  above  him.  He  paused  for  ^  moment  to 
breathe,  and  sprang  on  to  complete  his  task. 

At  this  instant  a  faint  cry  fell  on  his  ear.  He  turned  and 
1  spurned,  pushed  aside. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  93 

saw  a  gray-haired  old  man  extended  on  the  rocks.  His  eyes 
were  sunk,  his  features  deadly  pale  and  gathered  into  an  ex- 
pression of  despair.  "  Water !  "  He  stretched  his  arms  to 
Hans  and  cried  feebly,  "  Water  !  I  am  dying  !  " 

"  I  have  none,"  replied  Hans  ;  "  thou  hast  had  thy  share 
of  life."  He  strode  over  the  prostrate  body  and  darted  on. 
And  a  flash  of  blue  lightning  rose  out  of  the  east  shaped  like 
a  sword.  It  shook  thrice  over  the  whole  heaven,  and  left  it 
dark  with  one  heavy,  impenetrable  ^  shade.  The  sun  was 
setting;  it  plunged  toward  the  horizon  like  a  red-hot 
ball. 

The  roar  of  the  Golden  River  rose  on  Hans's  ear.  He 
stood  at  the  brink  of  the  chasm  through  which  it  ran.  Its 
waves  were  filled  with  the  red  glory  of  the  sunset ;  they 
shook  the  crests  like  tongues  of  fire,  and  flashes  of  bloody 
light  gleamed  along  their  foam.  Their  sound  came  mightier 
and  mightier  on  his  senses ;  his  brain  grew  giddy  with  the 
prolonged  thunder.  Shuddering,  he  drew  the  flask  from  his 
girdle  and  hurled  it  into  the  center  of  the  torrent.  As  he 
did  so  an  icy  chill  shot  through  his  limbs ;  he  staggered, 
shrieked,  and  fell.  The  waters  closed  over  his  cry,  and 
the  moaning  of  the  river  rose  wildly  into  the  night  as  it 
gushed  over 

THE  BLACK   STONE, 

CHAPTER  IV. 

"pOOR  little  Gluck  waited  very  anxiously,  alone  in  the 
-■-  house,  for  Hans's  return.  Finding  he  did  not  come 
back  he  was  terribly  frightened,  and  went  and  told  Schwartz 
in  the  prison  all  that  had  happened.     Then  Schwartz  was 

*  im-pen'e-tra-ble,  that  cannot  be  pierced. 


94  A   FIFTH   READER. 

very  much  pleased,  and  said  that  Hans  must  have  certainly 
been  turned  into  a  black  stone  ;  he  should  have  all  the  gold 
to  himself.  But  Gluck  was  very  sorry  and  cried  all  night. 
When  he  got  up  in  the  morning  there  was  no  bread  in  the 
house  nor  any  money  ;  so  Gluck  went  and  hired  himself  to 
another  goldsmith,  and  he  worked  so  hard,  and  so  neatly, 
and  so  long  every  day  that  he  soon  got  money  enough 
together  to  pay  his  brother's  fine,  and  he  went  and  gave  it 
all  to  Schwartz,  and  Schwartz  got  out  of  prison.  Then 
Schwartz  was  quite  pleased,  and  said  that  he  should  have 
some  of  the  gold  of  the  river.  But  Gluck  only  begged  he 
would  go  and  see  what  had  become  of  Hans. 

Now  when  Schwartz  heard  that  Hans  had  stolen  the  holy 
water,  he  thought  to  himself  that  such  a  proceeding  might 
not  be  considered  altogether  correct  by  the  King  of  the 
Golden  River,  and  determined  to  manage  matters  better. 
So  he  took  some  more  of  Gluck's  money,  and  he  went  to  a 
bad  priest,  who  gave  him  some  holy  water  very  readily  for 
it.  Then  Schwartz  was  sure  it  was  all  quite  right.  So 
Schwartz  got  up  early  in  the  morning,  before  the  sun  rose, 
and  took  some  bread  and  wine  in  a  basket,  and  put  his  holy 
water  in  a  flask,  and  set  off  for  the  mountains.  Like  his 
brother,  he  was  much  surprised  at  the  sight  of  the  glacier, 
and  had  great  difficulty  in  crossing  it,  even  after  leaving  his 
basket  behind  him.  The  day  was  cloudless,  but  not  bright ; 
there  was  a  heavy  purple  haze  hanging  over  the  sky,  and 
the  hills  looked  lowering  and  gloomy.  And  as  Schwartz 
climbed  the  steep  rock  path  the  thirst  came  upon  him,  as  it 
had  upon  his  brother,  until  he  lifted  his  flask  to  his  lips  to 
drink.  Then  he  saw  the  fair  child  lying  near  him  on  the 
rocks,  and  it  cried  to  him  and  moaned  for  water.  "  Water, 
indeed !  "  said  Schwartz  ;    "  I  have  n't  enough  for  myself," 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  95 

and  passed  on.  And  as  he  went  he  thought  the  sunbeams 
became  dim,  and  he  saw  a  low  bank  of  black  cloud  rising 
out  of  the  west ;  and  when  he  had  climbed  for  another  hour 
the  thirst  overcame  him  again,  and  he  would  have  drunk. 
Then  he  saw  the  old  man  lying  before  him  on  the  path, 
and  heard  him  cry  out  for  water.  "  Water,  indeed  !  "  said 
Schwartz ;  "  I  have  n't  half  enough  for  myself,"  and  on  he 
went. 

Then  again  the  light  seemed  to  fade  before  his  eyes,  and 
he  looked  up,  and  behold,  a  mist  of  the  color  of  blood  had 
come  over  the  sun,  and  the  bank  of  the  black  cloud  had 
risen  very  high,  and  its  edges  were  tossing  and  tumbling 
like  the  waves  of  an  angry  sea ;  and  they  cast  long  shadows, 
which  flickered  over  Schwartz's  path. 

Then  Schwartz  climbed  for  another  hour,  and  again  his 
thirst  returned ;  and  as  he  lifted  his  flask  to  his  lips  he 
thought  he  saw  his  brother  Hans  lying  exhausted  on  the 
path  before  him ;  and  as  he  gazed  the  figure  stretched  its 
arms  to  him  and  cried  for  water.  "  Ha,  ha ! "  laughed 
Schwartz ;  "  are  you  there  ?  Eemember  the  prison  bars,  my 
boy.  Water,  indeed!  do  you  suppose  I  carried  it  all  the 
way  up  here  for  you  V*  And  he  strode  over  the  figure  ;  yet, 
as  he  passed,  he  thought  he  saw  a  strange  expression  of 
mockery  about  its  lips.  And  when  he  had  gone  a  few 
yards  farther  he  looked  back,  but  the  figure  was  not  there. 

And  a  sudden  horror  came  over  Schwartz,  he  knew  not 
why ;  but  the  thirst  for  gold  prevailed  over  his  fear,  and  he 
rushed  on.  And  the  bank  of  black  cloud  rose  to  the  zenith, 
and  out  of  it  came  bursts  of  spiry  lightning,  and  waves  of 
darkness  seemed  to  heave  and  float  between  their  flashes, 
over  the  whole  heavens.  And  the  sky  where  the  sun  was 
setting  was  all  level,  and  like  a  lake  of  blood ;  and  a  strong 


96  A  FIFTH   READER. 

wind  came  out  of  that  sky,  tearing  its  crimson  clouds  into 
fragments  and  scattering  them  far  into  the  darkness.  And 
when  Schwartz  stood  by  the  brink  of  the  Golden  River,  its 
waves  were  black  like  thunder  clouds,  but  their  foam  was 
like  fire  ;  and  the  roar  of  the  waters  below  and  the  thunder 
above  met  as  he  cast  the  flask  into  the  stream.  And  as  he 
did  so  the  lightning  glared  in  his  eyes,  and  the  earth  gave 
way  beneath  him,  and  the  waters  closed  over  his  cry.  And 
the  moaning  of  the  river  rose  wildly  into  the  night  as  it 
gushed  over  the 

TWO  BLACK   STONES. 


CHAPTER  V. 

WHEN  Gluck  found  that  Schwartz  did  not  come  back, 
he  was  very  sorry,  and  he  did  not  know  what  to  do. 
He  had  no  money,  and  was  obliged  to  go  and  hire  himself 
again  to  the  goldsmith,  who  worked  him  very  hard  and  gave 
him  very  little  money.  So  after  a  month  or  two  Gluck 
grew  tired,  and  made  up  his  mind  to  go  and  try  his  fortune 
witli  the  Golden  River.  "  The  little  king  looked  very 
kind,"  thought  he.  "  I  do  n't  think  he  will  turn  me  into  a 
black  stone."  So  he  went  to  the  priest,  and  the  priest  gave 
him  some  holy  water  as  soon  as  he  asked  for  it.  Then 
Gluck  put  some  bread  into  his  basket,  and  the  bottle  of 
water,  and  set  off  very  early  for  the  mountains. 

If  the  glacier  had  occasioned  a  great  deal  of  fatigue  to  his 
brothers,  it  was  twenty  times  worse  for  him,  who  was  neither 
so  strong  nor  so  practiced  on  the  mountains.  He  had  sev- 
eral very  bad  falls,  lost  his  basket  and  bread,  and  was  very 
much  frightened  at  the  strange  noises  under  the  ice.  He' 
lay  a  long  time  to  rest  on  the  grass  after  he  had  got  over, 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  97 

and  began  to  climb  the  hill  just  in  the  hottest  part  of  the 
day.  When  he  had  climbed  for  an  hour  he  got  dreadfully 
thirsty,  and  was  going  to  drink  like  his  brothers,  when  he 
saw  an  old  man  coming  down  the  path  above  him,  looking 
very  feeble  and  leaning  on  a  staff. 

"My  son,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  am  faint  with  thirst; 
give  me  some  of  that  water !  "  Then  Gluck  looked  at  liim, 
and  when  he  saw  that  he  was  pale  and  weary,  he  gave  him 
the  water.  "  Only,  pray,  do  n't  drink  it  all,"  said  Gluck. 
But  the  old  man  drank  a  great  deal,  and  gave  him  back 
the  bottle  two  thirds  empty.  Then  he  bade  him  good  speed, 
and  Gluck  went  on  again  m^errily.  And  the  path  became 
easier  to  his  feet,  and  two  or  three  blades  of  grass  appeared 
upon  it,  and  some  grasshoppers  began  singing  on  the  bank 
beside  it;  and  Gluck  thought  he  had  never  heard  such 
merry  singing. 

Then  he  went  on  for  another  hour,  and  the  thirst  increased 
on  him  so  that  he  thought  he  should  be  forced  to  drink. 
But  as  he  raised  the  flask  he  saw  a  little  child  lying  pant- 
ing by  the  roadside,  and  it  cried  out  piteously  for  water. 
Then  Gluck  struggled  with  himself,  and  determined  to  bear 
the  thirst  a  little  longer;  and  he  put  the  bottle  to  the  child's 
lips,  and  it  drank  all  but  a  few  drops.  Then  it  smiled  on 
him,  and  got  up  and  ran  down  the  hill ;  and  Gluck  looked 
after  it  till  it  became  as  small  as  a  little  star,  and  then 
turned  and  began  climbing  again.  And  then  there  were 
all  kinds  of  sweet  flowers  growing  on  the  rocks, — bright 
green  moss,  with  pale  pink  starry  flowers,  and  soft  belled 
gentians  more  blue  than  the  sky  at  its  deepest,  and  pure 
white  transparent  lilies.  And  crimson  and  purple  butterflies 
darted  hither  and  thither,  and  the  sky  sent  down  such  pure 
light  that  Gluck  had  never  felt  so  happy  in  his  life. 


98  A   FIFTH    READER. 

Yet,  when  he  had  climbed  for  another  hour,  his  thirst 
became  intolerable  ^  again  ;  and  when  he  looked  at  his  bot- 
tle, he  saw  that  there  were  only  five  or  six  drops  left  in  it, 
and  he  could  not  venture  to  drink.  And  as  he  was  hanging 
the  flask  to  his  belt  again  he  saw  a  little  dog  lying  on  the 
rocks,  gasping  for  breath,  —  just  as  Hans  had  seen  it  on  the 
day  of  his  ascent.  And  Gluck  stopped  and  looked  at  it, 
and  then  at  the  Golden  River,  not  five  hundred  yards  above 
him ;  and  he  thought  of  the  dwarf's  words,  "  that  no  one 
could  succeed  except  in  his  first  attempt,"  and  he  tried  to 
pass  the  dog,  but  it  whined  piteously,  and  Gluck  stopped 
again.  "  Poor  beastie,"  said  Gluck,  "  it  '11  be  dead  when  I 
come  down  again,  if  I  do  n't  help  it  now."  Then  he  looked 
closer  and  closer  at  it,  and  its  eye  turned  on  him  so  mourn- 
fully that  he  could  not  stand  it.  "  Confound  the  King,  and 
his  gold  too ! "  said  Gluck  ;  and  he  opened  the  flask  and 
poured  all  the  water  into  the  dog's  mouth. 

The  dog  sprang  up  and  stood  on  his  hind  legs.  Its  tail 
disappeared,  its  ears  became  long,  longer,  silky,  golden ;  its 
nose  became  very  red,  its  eyes  became  very  twinkling ;  in 
three  seconds  the  dog  was  gone,  and  before  Gluck  stood  his 
old  acquaintance,  the  King  of  the  Golden  River. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  monarch ;  "  but  don't  be  frightened, 
it 's  all  right,  "  —  for  Gluck  showed  manifest  ^  symptoms  of 
consternation  at  this  unlooked-for  reply  to  his  last  observa- 
tion. "  Why  did  n't  you  come  before,"  continued  the  dwarf, 
"  instead  of  sending  me  those  rascally  brothers  of  yours,  for 
me  to  have  the  trouble  of  turning  into  stones  ?  Very  hard 
stones  they  make,  too." 

"  Oh,  dear  me  I  "  said  Gluck,  "  have  you  really  been  so 
cruel?" 

^  in-tol'er-a-ble,  not  to  be  endured.      "  manl-feat,  plainly  apparent. 


THE    KING    OF    THE    GOLDEN    RIVER.  99 


"  Cruel !  "  said  the  dwarf.  "  They  poured  unholy  water 
into  my  stream:  do  you  suppose  I'm  going  to  allow 
that?" 

"  Why,"  said  Gluck,  "  I  am  sure,  sir,  —  your  Majesty,  I 
mean,  —  they  got  the  water  out  of  the  church  font." 

"Very  probably,"  replied  the  dwarf;  "but,"  and  his 
countenance  grew  stern  as  he  spoke,  "  the  water  which  has 
been  refused  to  the  weary  and  the  dying  is  unholy,  though 
it  had  been  blessed  by  every  saint  in  heaven ;  and  the  water 
which  is  found  in  the  vessel  of  mercy  is  holy,  though  it  had 
been  defiled  with  corpses." 

So  saying,  the  dwarf  stooped  and  plucked  a  lily  that  grew 
at  his  feet.  On  its  white  leaves  there  hung  three  drops  of 
clear  dew.  And  the  dwarf  shook  them  into  the  flask  which 
Gluck  held  in  his  hand.  "  Cast  these  into  the  river,"  he 
said,  "  and  descend  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountains  into 
the  Treasure  Valley.     And  so  good  speed  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  the  figure  of  the  dwarf  became  indistinct. 
The  playing  colors  of  his  robe  formed  themselves  into  a 
prismatic  mist  of  dewy  light ;  he  stood  for  an  instant  veiled 
with  them  as  with  the  belt  of  a  broad  rainbow.  The  colors 
grew  faint,  the  mist  rose  into  the  air,  —  the  monarch  had 
evaporated. 

And  Gluck  climbed  to  the  brink  of  the  Golden  River, 
and  its  waves  were  as  clear  as  crystal  and  as  brilliant  as  the 
sun.  And  when  he  cast  the  three  drops  of  dew  into 
the  stream,  there  opened,  where  they  fell,  a  small  circular 
whirlpool,  into  which  the  waters  descended  with  a  musical 
noise. 

Gluck  stood  watching  it  for  some  time,  very  much  disap- 
pointed because  the  river  not  only  was  not  turned  into  gold, 
but  its  waters  seemed  much  diminished  in  quantity.     Yet  he 


100  A  FIFTH   READER. 

obeyed  his  friend  the  dwarf,  and  descended  the  other  side 
of  the  mountains  towards  the  Treasure  Valley ;  and  as  he 
went  he  thought  he  heard  the  noise  of  water  working  its 
way  under  the  ground.  And  when  he  came  in  sight  of 
the  Treasure  Valley,  behold,  a  river  like  the  Golden  River 
was  springing  from  a  new  cleft  of  the  rocks  above  it,  and 
was  flowing  in  innumerable  streams  among  the  dry  heaps  of 
red  sand. 

And  as  Gluck  gazed,  fresh  grass  sprang  beside  the  new 
streams,  and  creeping  plants  grew  and  climbed  among  the 
moistening  soil.  Young  flowers  opened  suddenly  along  the 
river  sides,  as  stars  leap  out  when  twilight  is  deepening,  and 
thickets  of  myrtle  and  tendrils  of  vine  cast  lengthening 
shadows  over  the  valley  as  they  grew.  And  thus  the 
Treasure  Valley  became  a  garden  again,  and  the  inherit- 
ance which  had  been  lost  by  cruelty  was  regained  by  love. 

And  Gluck  went  and  dwelt  in  the  valley,  and  the  poor 
were  never  driven  from  his  door :  so  that  his  barns  became 
full  of  com  and  his  house  of  treasure.  And  for  him  the 
river  had,  according  to  the  dwarf's  promise,  become  a  River 
of  Gold. 

And  to  this  day  the  inhabitants  of  the  valley  point  out 
the  place  where  the  three  drops  of  holy  dew  were  cast 
into  the  stream,  and  trace  the  course  of  the  Golden  River 
under  the  ground  until  it  emerges  in  the  Treasure  Valley. 
And  at  the  top  of  the  cataract  of  the  Golden  River  are  still 
to  be  seen  Two  Black  Stones,  round  which  the  waters 
howl  mournfully  every  day  at  sunset ;  and  these  stones  are 
still  called  by  the  people  of  the  valley, 

THE    BLACK    BROTHERS. 


»    >      1  '    '     > 


THE    OLD    OAKEN    BUqUET.  ; 


101 


XIII.     THE  OLD   OAKEN   BUCKET. 

By  Samuel  Woodworth. 

HOW  dear  to  my  heart  are  the  scenes  of  my  childhood, 
When  fond  recollection  presents  them  to  view! 
The  orchard,  the  meadow,  the 
deep-tangled  wildwood, 
And  every  loved   spot   that  ""^ 
my  infancy  knew ;  — 
The  widespreading   pond,  and 
the- mill  which  stood  by  it; 
The    bridge,    and    the    rock 
where  the  cataract  fell ; 
The  cot  of  my  father,  the  dairy- 
house  nigh  it, 
And  e'en  the  rude  bucket  which  hung  in  the  well! 
The  old  oaken  bucket. 
The  iron-bound  bucket. 
The  moss-covered  bucket,  which  hung  in  the  well. 

That  moss-covered  vessel  I  hail 
as  a  treasure ; 
For  often  at  noon,  when  re- 
turned from  the  field, 
I    found   it   the    source    of    an 
exquisite  pleasure, 
The  purest  and  sweetest  that 
Nature  can  yield. 
How  ardent   I    seized    it,  with 
hands  that  were  glowing, 
'>^.^,i";^/-y^^///.7^      And  quick  to  the  white-peb- 
bled bottom  it  fell? 


n    o  o  c    • 
A    «•  »    • 


lOS 


^  FIFTH   READER. 


Irhen  soon,  with  the  ejnblem  of  truth  overflowing, 
And  dripping  with  coolness,  it  rose  from  the  well;  — 

The  old  oaken  bucket, 

The  iron-bound  bucket. 
The  moss-covered  bucket,  arose  from  the  well ! 

How    sweet    from    the    green 
mossy  brim  to  receive  it. 
As,    poised   on    the    curb,   it 
inclined  to  my  lips ! 
Not  a  full  blushing  goblet  could 
tempt  me  to  leave  it, 
Though  filled  with  the  nectar 
that  Jupiter  sips. 
And  now,  far  removed  from  the 
loved  situation. 
The   tear   of   regret  will    in- 
trusively swell. 
As  fancy  reverts  to  my  father's  plantation. 

And  sighs  for  the  bucket  which  hangs  in  the  well;  — 
The  old  oaken  bucket, 
The  iron-bound  bucket. 
The  moss-covered  bucket,  which  hangs  in  the  well ! 


SILKWORMS. 


103 


XIV.     SILKWORMS. 

By  John   Henry   Gray. 


I 


N  endeavoring  to  give 
some  account  of  the 
manufacture  of  silk,  the 
most  important  branch  of 
Chinese  industry,  the  first 
point  to  be  noticed  is  the 
mode  in  which  the  silk- 
worms are  reared.  Those 
who  are  engaged  in  this 
work  select  a  certain  num- 
ber of  male  and  female 
cocoons.^  They  have  no 
difficulty  in  distinguishing 
the  sex,  as  the  cocoon  which 
contains  the  male  is  strong, 
very  pointed  at  each  end,  and  smaller  than  that  which 
contains  the  female,  which  is  thick,  round,  and  soft. 

At  the  end  of  a  period  of  fifteen  or  twenty  days  the  moths 
come  out  of  the  cocoons.  They  free  themselves  by  first 
ejecting  a  fluid  which  dissolves  a  portion  of  the  cocoon.  All 
moths  the  wings  of  which  are  expanded  at  the  time  of  their 
birth  are  regarded  as  useful,  whereas  those  having  crumpled 
wings,  no  eyebrows,  and  which  are  without  down,  are  con- 
sidered useless,  and  are  at  once  destroyed. 

1  co-coon',  the  oblong  case  in  which  the  silkworm  passes  its  chrysalis 
period.  It  is  nriade  of  threads  of  silk  spun  by  the  worm  just  before 
leaving  its  larval  state. 


COCOON, 

MOTH,    AND 

SILKWORM 


104  A   FIFTH   READER. 

After  a  day  the  females,  each  having  been  placed  on  a 
sheet  of  coarse  paper,  begin  to  lay  their  eggs.  In  the  silk 
districts  of  the  north,  owing,  I  suppose,  to  the  severe  cli- 
mates, pieces  of  cloth  are  used  instead  of  paper.  The  num- 
ber of  eggs  which  each  moth  lays  is  generally  five  hundred, 
and  the  period  required  for  her  to  perform  so  great  a  labor 
is,  I  believe,  about  seventy-four  hours.  The  females  often 
die  almost  as  soon  as  they  have  laid  their^  eggs,  and  the 
males  do  not  long  survive  them. 

The  egg  of  the  silkworm,  which  is  of  a  whitish  or  pale  ash 
color,  is  not  larger  than  a  grain  of  mustarS?  seed.  When 
eighteen  days  old,  the  eggs  are  carefully  washed  with  spring 
water.  The  sheet  of  coarse  paper  or  the  piece  of  cloth  on 
which  they  were  laid,  and  to  which  they  adhere,  is  very 
gently  drawn  through  spring  water  contained  in  a  wooden 
or  earthen  bowl.  During  the  autumnal  months  the  eggs 
are  carefully  kept  in  a  cool  chamber,  the  sheets  of  paper 
or  pieces  of  cloth  being  suspended  back  to  back  from 
bamboo  rods  placed  in  a  horizontal  position. 

In  the  tenth  month  of  the  Chinese  year,  which  corresponds 
with  our  December,  the  sheets  are  rolled  up,  and  then  depos- 
ited in  a  room  which  is  well  swept  and  free  from  all  noxious  ^ 
influences.  On  the  third  day  of  the  twelfth  month  the  eggs 
are  again  washed,  and  are  exposed  to  the  air  to  dry. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year,  the  eggs  being  now  ready  to 
bring  forth,  the  sheets  are  placed  on  mats,  and  each  mat 
placed  on  a  bamboo  shelf  in  a  well-swept  and  well-warmed 
chamber  containing  a  series  of  shelves  arranged  along  the 
wall.  The  shelves  are  almost  invariably  made  of  bamboo, 
the  wood  of  which  emits  no  fragrance,  aromatic  ^  wood  being 
especially  avoided  as  unsuitable  for  the  purpose. 

^  noz'ious  (shus),  harmful.  '^  ar-o-mafic,  fragrant. 


SILKWORMS.  105 

At  the  time  of  their  biith  the  worms  are  black,  and  so 
small  as  scarcely  to  exceed  a  hair  in  breadth.  Owing  to 
their  diminutive  ^  size,  those  in  charge  of  them  cut  the  leaves 
of  the  mulberry  tree,  on  which  they  are  fed,  into  very  small 
pieces.  This  is  done  with  very  sharp  knives,  so  that  the 
leaves  may  not  be  bruised,  and  consequently  retain  as  much 
sap  as  possible. 

When  the  worms  are  quite  young,  they  are  fed  not  less 
than  forty-eight  times  in  twenty-four  hours.  In  course  of 
time  their  meals  are  reduced  to  thirty  in  twenty-four  hours ; 
and  when  they  have  attained  to  their  full  growth,  they  get 
only  three  or  four  in  the  day.  Occasionally,  —  that  is,  once 
or  twice  during  the  first  month,  —  the  worms  are  fed  with 
mulberry  leaves  well  mixed  with  the  flour  of  green,  peas, 
that  of  black  beans,  and  that  of  rice.  This  mixture  is  sup- 
posed to  be  cooling  and  cleansing  to  the  worms  and  to  tend 
to  the  production  of  strong  and  glossy  silk. 

Like  all  other  creatures  these  insects  have  their  seasons  of 
rest,  and  to  these  seasons  the  Chinese  give  distinguishing 
names.  The  first  sleep,  which  takes  place  on  the  fourth  or 
fifth  day  after  birth,  is  termed  the  "  hair  sleep,"  and  lasts 
but  one  day.  The  second  sleep  takes  place  on  the  eighth  or 
ninth  day,  and  the  third  on  the  fourteenth  day ;  the  fourth 
and  last  sleep  takes  place  on  or  about  the  twenty-second  day, 
and  is  styled,  in  consequence  of  its  long  duration,  the  "  great 
sleep."  On  the  near  approach  of  each  period,  the  worm  loses 
its  appetite.  It  erects  the  upper  part  of  its  body  and  sleeps 
in  this  position. 

During  each  period  of  sleep  it  casts  its  skin,  continuing  in 
a  state  of  repose  until  the  new  skin  is  fully  matured.  It 
relieves  itself  of  the  old  skin  by  wriggling  out  at  that 
^  di-min'u-tive,  very  small. 


106  A   FIFTH    READER. 

part  of  it  which  covers  the  head,  and  which  is  broken. 
Sometimes  the  worm  dies  in  consequence  of  its  inability  to 
free  the  end  of  its  body  from  the  old  skin.  The  skin  being 
shed,  the  worm  grows  very  quickly  in  size  and  strength. 

Between  the  successive  periods  of  rest,  there  are  generally 
intervals  of  three  or  four  days,  during  which  these  little 
creatures  eat  most  voraciously.  During  the  four  or  five 
days  which  immediately  precede  the  "  great  sleep "  they 
have  a  greater  appetite  for  food  than  they  have  hitherto 
manifested.  When  they  have  reached  tthe  age  of  thirty-two 
days  they  are  full  grown,  each  being  aboiit  two  inches  in 
length,  and  almost  as  thick  as  a  man's  little  finger. 

When  the  worms  are  gradually  increasing  in  size  they  are 
separated,  periodically,  intcNseveraL  lots,  so  as  to  give  them 
more  room.  Now  that  it  is  fulL<^rown,  the  worm,  which  be- 
fore was  a  whitish  hue,  assumes  a  tint  resembling  that  of 
amber.  At  this  period  they  cease  to  partake  of  food,  and 
begin  to  spin  the  silk  from  their  mouths  on  the  frames  or 
shelves  on  which  they  have  been  placed. 

In  spinning,  they  move  the  head  first  to  one  side  and  then 
to  the  other,  and  continue  the  operation  until  the  whole 
body  is  enveloped  in  a  cocoon.  The  time  which  a  worm 
requires  to  accomplish  this  labor  is,  I  believe,  from  three  to 
five  days  ;  and  as  soon  as  it  has  inclosed  itself  in  the  cocoon, 
it  falls  into  a  state  of  coma,^  casts  its  skin,  and  eventually  ^ 
becomes  a  chiysalis. 

The  attendants  then  place  the  bamboo  shelves  on  which 
the  cocoons  lie  near  a  slow  fire  of  charcoal  or  wood,  in  order 
that  the  chrysalids  ^  may  be  destroyed  by  its  heat ;  otherwise 

*  co'ma,  unconsciousness,  like  sleep. 

2  e-vent'u-al-ly,  in  the  end  ;  finally. 

5  chrys'a-lids,  the  insects  in  the  cocoons. 


SILKWORMS.  107 

these  would,  in  three  weeks  more,  break  from  their  prison 
and  appear  in  tlie  imago  form,  —  the  last  perfected  state  of 
insect  life. 

The  chrysalids  having  been  destroyed,  the  cocoons  are  re- 
moved from  the  frames  and  placed  in  baskets.  Women  and 
girls,  carefully  selected  for  the  task,  now  unwind  the  co- 
coons, —  a  process  which  they  make  easy  by  placing  them 
in  boiling  water.  These  workers  must  be  deft  of  hand,  and 
expert  in  the  business,  fully  capable  of  making  the  threads 
of  equal  size,  and  of  producing  them  bright,  clear,  and 
glossy. 

When  the  cocoons  are  put  into  boiling  water,  the  outer 
layer,  which  is  called  the  silk  rind  or  shell,  is  first  unwound. 
Another  set  of  women  or  girls,  %ho  are  equally  expert,  is 
then  engaged  to  unwind  the ,  inner  layers  of  the  cocoon, 
called  the  silk  pulp  or  flesht  In  the  course  of  a  day  one 
woman  can  unwind  four^taels  ^  of  silk  in  weight.  The  most 
expert  workers  cannot,  I  believe,  turn  off  more  than  five  or 
six  taels'  weight. 

Industrious  workers,  who  are  masters  of  the  business,  will 
finish  one  season,  or  silk  harvest,  in  the  course  of  eighteen 
or  nineteen  days.  Ordinary  or  second-rate  workers  will  re- 
quire twenty-four  or  twenty-five  days  to  get  through  the 
same  amount  of  work. 

From  long,  white,  and  shining  cocoons,  a  small  and 
good  thread  of  silk  is  obtained ;  from  those  which  are  large 
and  dull  in  texture,  a  coarse  thread  is  produced.  This 
coarse  thread  is  used  in  making  the  stuffs  with  which 
dresses  are  lined.  The  chrysalids  are  eaten  by  the  workers, 
and  are  regarded  as  food  of  an  excellent  kind. 

^  tael  (tale),  about  one  and  a  third  ounces. 


108  A   FIFTH   READER. 

XV.     THE  GLOVE  AND  THE  LIONS. 

By  James  Henry  Leigh  Hunt. 

KING  FRANCIS  was  a  hearty  king,  and  loved  a  royal 
sport, 
And  one  day,  as  his  lions  fought,  sat  looking  on  the  court ; 
The   nobles   filled  the   benches,   with  the   ladies  in   their 

pride. 
And  Jmongst  them  sat  the  Count  de  Lorge  with  one  for 

whom  he  sighed: 
And  truly   'twas   a  gallant  thing  to  see  that  crowning 

show,  — 
Valor  and  love,  and  a  king  above,   and  the  royal  beasts 

below. 

Ramped  and  roared  the  lions,  with  horrid  laughing  jaws: 
They   bit,   they  glared,   gave   blows   like   beams,   a  wind 

went  with  their  paws ; 
With  wallowing  might    and  stifled  roar   they  rolled  on 

one  another, 
Till  all  the  pit,  with  sand  and  mane,  was  in  a  thunderous 

smother ; 
The  bloody  foam  above  the  bars  came   whisking  through 

the  air : 
Said  Francis  then,   "  Faith,  gentlemen,  we  're  better  here 

than  there ! " 

De  Lorge's  love  o'erheard  the  king,  —  a  beauteous,  lively 

dame, 
With  smiling  lips   and  sharp,  bright  eyes,   which  always 

seemed  the  same: 


TERRIFIC  SCENE  AT  THE  NATURAL  BRIDGE.     109 

She  thought,  "  The   Count,  my  lover,   is  brave  as  brave 

can  be,  — 
He  surely  would  do  wondrous  things  to  show  his  love  of  me. 
King,  ladies,  lovers,  all  look  on;   the  occasion  is  divine; 
I  '11  drop  my  glove   to   prove   his   love ;   great  glory  will 

be  mine." 

She  dropped  her  glove  to  prove  his  love,   then  looked  at 

him  and  smiled; 
He  bowed,  and  in  a  moment  leaped  among  the  lions  wild : 
The  leap  was   quick,  return   was   quick,  he   has   regained 

his  place, 
Then  threw  the   glove,  but  not  with  love,  right  in  the 

lady's  face. 
"  In  faith,"  cried   Francis,    "  rightly  done ! "   and  he  rose 

from  where  he  sat; 
"No  love,"  quoth  he,    "but  vanity,  sets  love  a  task  like 

that." 


XVI.    TERRIFIC   SCENE  AT  THE  NATURAL  BRIDGE. 

By   ElIHU   BURRITT.I 

THERE  are  three  or  four  lads  standing  in  the  channel 
below,  looking  up  with  awe  to  that  vast  arch  of 
unhewn  rocks  which  the  Almighty  bridged  over  those 
everlasting    hutments    "  when  the  morning  stars  sang  to- 

1  Elihu  Burritt,  1811-1879,  was  known  as  the  Learned  Black- 
smith. When  a  boy  he  learned  the  blacksmith's  trade,  but  he  always 
desired  above  all  things  to  be  a  scholar ;  so  he  used  to  take  books  to  his 
smithy,  and  place  them  where  he  could  read  as  he  blew  his  bellows. 
So  hard  did  he  study  that  in  spite  of  his  discouragements  he  became 
a  great  scholar,  learned  to  read  and  speak  a  number  of  languages,  and 
wrote  profound  books. 


A   FIFTH    READER. 


Mm^- 


^   >"*^^^   .,; 


''^''•ims^- 


'.^1 


w 


I. -.A 


'^;S 


1 


/■ 


\M 


V  gether." 
•  The  little 
piece  of  sky 
spanning 
those  measureless 
piers  is  full  of 
stars,  although  it 
is  mid -day. 
It  is  almost  five  hun- 
dred^ feet  from  where 
they  stand,  up  those 
perpendicular  bulwarks 
of  limestone,  to  the  key 
rock  of  that  vast  arch, 
which  appears  to  them  only  the  size  of  a  man's  hand.  The 
silence  of  death  is  rendered  more  impressive  by  the  little 

1  The  height  of  the  Natural  Bridge  is  given  by  the  Century  Dictionary 
as  216  feet. 


MATUBAL    BRIDGE,    VIRGINIA. 


TERRIFIC  SCENE  AT  THE  NATURAL  BRIDGE.      Ill 

stream  that  falls  from  rock  to  rock  down  the  channel.  The 
sun  is  darkened,  and  the  boys  have  unconsciously  un- 
covered their  heads,  as  if  standing  in  the  presence  chamber 
of  the  Majesty  of  the  whole  earth. 

At  last  this  feeling  begins  to  wear  away ;  they  begin  to 
look  around  them;  they  find  that  others  have  been  there 
before  them.  They  see  the  names  of  hundreds  cut  in  the 
limestone  hutments.  A  new  feeling  comes  over  the  young 
hearts,  and  their  knives  are  in  their  hands  in  an  instant. 
"What  man  has  done,  man  can  do,"  is  their  watchword, 
while  they  draw  themselves  up  and  carve  their  names  a  foot 
above  those  of  a  hundred  full-grown  men  who  have  been 
there  before  them. 

They  are  all  satisfied  with  tliis  feat  of  physical  exertion 
except  one,  whose  example  illustrates  perfectly  the  forgotten 
truth  that  there  is  no  royal  road  to  intellectual  eminence. 
This  ambitious  youth  sees  a  name  just  above  his  reach, 
a  name  that  will  be  green  in  the  memory  of  the  world 
when  those  of  Alexander,  Csesar,  and  Bonaparte  shall  rot 
Ml  oblivion.  It  was  the  name  of  Washington.  Before  he 
marched  with  Braddock  to  that  fatal  field  he  had  been 
there,  and  left  his  name  a  foot  above  all  his  predecessors'. 

It  was  a  glorious  thought  of  the  boy  to  write  his  name 
side  by  side  with  that  of  the  Father  of  his  Country.  He 
grasps  his  knife  with  a  firmer  hand,  and,  clinging  to  a  little 
jutting  crag,  he  cuts  a  niche  into  the  limestone  about  a  foot 
above  where  he  stands  ;  he  then  reaches  up  and  cuts  another 
for  his  hands.  'T  is  a  dangerous  adventure  ;  but  as  he  puts 
his  feet  and  hands  in  those  niches  and  draws  himself  up 
carefully  to  his  full  length,  he  finds  himself  a  foot  above 
every  name  chronicled^  i.i  that  mighty  wall. 
*  chron'i-cled,  recorded. 


112  A   FIFTH   READER 

While  his  companions  are  regarding  him  with  concern 
and  admiration,  he  cuts  his  name  in  rude  capitals,  large  and 
deep,  into  that  flinty  album.  His  knife  is  still  in  his  hand, 
and  strength  in  his  sinews,  and  new-created  aspiration  in  his 
heart.  Again  he  cuts  another  niche,  and  again  he  carves 
his  name  in  larger  capitals. 

This  is  not  enough.  Heedless  of  the  entreaties  of  his 
companions,  he  cuts  and  climbs  again.  The  gradations  ^ 
of  his  ascending  scale  grow  wider  apart.  He  measures  his 
length  at  every  gain  he  cuts.  The  voices  of  his  friends  wax 
weaker  and  weaker,  till  their  words  are  finally  lost  on 
his  ear. 

He  now  for  the  first  time  casts  a  look  beneath  him.  Had 
the  glance  lasted  a  moment,  that  moment  would  have  been 
his  last.  He  clings  with  a  convulsive  ^  shudder  to  his  little 
niche  in  the  rock. 

An  awful  abyss  awaits  his  almost  certain  fall.  He  is 
faint  with  severe  exertion,  and  trembling  from  the  sudden 
view  of  the  dreadful  destruction  to  which  he  is  exposed. 
His  knife  is  worn  half-way  to  the  haft.  He  can  hear  the 
voices,  but  not  the  words,  of  his  terror-stricken  companions 
below. 

What  a  moment !  What  a  meager  chance  to  escape 
destruction !  There  is  no  retracing  his  steps.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  put  his  hands  into  the  same  niche  with  his  feet  and 
retain  his  slender  hold  a  moment.  His  companions  instantly 
perceive  this  new  and  fearful  dilemma,^  and  await  his  fall 
with  emotions  that  "freeze  their  young  blood." 

He  is  too  high,  too  faint,  to  ask  for  his  father  and  mother, 
his  brothers  and  sisters,  to  come  and  witness  or  avert  his 

1  gra-da'tionB,  steps.  ^  con-vul'sive,  like  a  spasm. 

8  di-lem'ma,  difficulty ;  doubtful  choice. 


TERRIFIC   SCENE  AT   THE  NATURAL  BRIDGE.     113 

destruction.  But  one  of  his  companions  anticipates  his 
desire.  Swift  as  the  wind  he  bounds  down  the  channel, 
and  the  situation  of  the  fated  boy  is  told  on  his  father's 
hearthstone. 

Minutes  of  almost  eternal  length  roll  on,  and  there  are 
hundreds  standing  in  that  rocky  channel,  and  hundreds 
on  the  bridge  above,  all  holding  their  breath  and  awaiting 
the  fearful  catastrophe.  The  poor  boy  hears  the  hum  of 
new  and  numerous  voices  both  above  and  below.  He 
can  just  distinguish  the  tones  of  his  father,  who  is  shout- 
ing, with  all  the  energy  of  despair,  "William!  William! 
do  n't  look  down  !  Your  mother,  and  Henry,  and  Harriet 
are  all  here  praying  for  you !  Keep  your  eye  toward 
the  top  I  " 

The  boy  did  n't  look  down.  His  eye  is  fixed  like  a  flint 
toward  heaven,  and  his  young  heart  on  Him  who  reigns 
there.  He  grasps  again  his  knife.  He  cuts  another  niche, 
and  another  foot  is  added  to  the  hundreds  that  remove  him 
from  the  reach  of  human  help  from  below. 

How  carefully  he  uses  his  wasting  blade  !  How  anxiously 
he  selects  the  softest  places  in  that  vast  pier!  How  he 
avoids  every  flinty  grain  !  how  he  economizes  ^  his  physical 
powers,  resting  a  moment  at  each  gain  he  cuts  !  How  every 
motion  is  watched  from  below!  There  stand  his  father, 
mother,  brother,  and  sister,  on  the  very  spot  where,  if  he 
falls,  he  will  not  fall  alone. 

The  sun  is  now  half-way  down  the  west.  The  lad  has 
made  fifty  additional  niches  in  that  mighty  wall,  and  now 
finds  himself  directly  under  the  middle  of  that  vast  arch  of 
rocks,  earth,  and  trees.  He  must  cut  his  way  in  a  new 
direction  to  get  from  under  this  overhanging  mountain 
q -  *  e-con'o-mi  zes,  saves. 


114  A  FIFTH   READER. 

The  inspiration  of  hope  is  dying  in  his  bosom ;  its  vital 
heat  is  fed  by  the  increasing  shouts  of  hundreds  perched 
upon  cliffs  and  trees,  and  others  who  stand  with  ropes  in 
their  hands  on  the  bridge  above,  or  with  ladders  below. 
Fifty  gains  more  must  be  cut  before  the  longest  rope  can 
reach  him.  His  wasting  blade  strikes  again  into  the  lime- 
stone. The  boy  is  emerging  painfully,  foot  by  foot,  from 
under  that  lofty  arch.  Spliced  ropes  are  ready  in  the  hands 
of  those  who  are  leaning  over  the  outer  edge  of  the  bridge. 

Two  minutes  more  and  all  will  be  over.  The  blade  is 
worn  to  the  last  half-inch.  The  boy's  head  reels ;  his  eyes 
are  starting  from  their  sockets ;  his  last  hope  is  dying  in 
his  heart ;  his  life  must  hang  on  the  next  gash  he  cuts. 
That  niche  is  his  last.  At  the  last  faint  gash  he  makes, 
his  knife,  his  faithful  knife,  drops  from  his  little  nerveless 
hand,  and,  ringing  along  the  precipice,  falls  at  his  mother's 
feet. 

An  involuntary  ^  groan  of  despair  runs  like  a  death  knell 
through  the  channel  below,  and  all  is  still  as  the  grave. 
At  the  height  of  nearly  three  hundred  feet  the  devoted  boy 
lifts  his  hopeless  heart,  and  closes  his  eyes  to  commend 
his  soul  to  God.  'T  is  but  a  moment  —  there !  one  foot 
swings  off  !  he  is  reeling  —  trembling  —  toppling  —  over 
intx)  eternity ! 

Hark !  a  shout  falls  on  his  ear  from  above.  The  man 
who  is  lying  with  half  his  length  over  the  bridge  has 
caught  a  glimpse  of  the  boy's  head  and  shoulders.  Quick 
as  thought  the  noosed  rope  is  within  reach  of  the  sinking 
youth.     No  one  breathes. 

With  a  faint,  convulsive  effort,  the  swooning  boy  drops 
his  arms  into  the  noose.  Darkness  comes  over  him,  and 
*  in-vol'un-ta-ry,  unintentional. 


AN    INCIDENT    OF    THE    CRIMEAN    WAR.  115 

with  the  words  "  God  "  and  "  Mother "  whispered  on  his 
lips,  just  loud  enough  to  be  heard  in  heaven,  the  tightening 
rope  lifts  him  out  of  this  last  shallow  niche. 

Not  a  lip  moves  while  he  is  dangling  over  that  fearful 
abyss ;  but  when  a  sturdy  Virginian  reaches  down  and 
draws  up  the  lad,  and  holds  him  up  in  his  arms  before  the 
tearful,  breathless  multitude,  such  shouting — such  weeping 
and  leaping  for  joy  —  never  greeted  the  ear  of  a  human 
being  so  recovered  from  the  yawning  gulf  of  eternity. 


XVII.    AN   INCIDENT  OF  THE   CRIMEAN   WAR. 

ABOUT  the  middle  of  this  century  there  was  a  terrible 
war  between  Russia,  on  one  side,  and  England  with 
her  allies,  on  the  other.  It  was  known  as  the  Crimean  War. 
During  a  great  battle  at  a  place  called  Balaklava,  a  com- 
pany of  British  soldiers  known  as  the  Light  Brigade  per- 
formed a  deed  of  bravery  almost  equal  to  that  of  the 
Spartans  at  Thermopylae.  Through  somebody's  mistake 
they  received  an  order  to  charge  upon  a  portion  of  the 
Russian  army  vastly  larger  than  their  own  company,  and 
protected  by  great  batteries  of  artillery. 

Although  it  seemed  a  rash  and  hopeless  undertaking, 
they  had  received  the  order  and  felt  that  they  must  obey. 
With  a  battery  in  front  and  one  on  each  side,  they  made  a 
charge  and  routed  the  enemy ;  but  it  was  a  dear-bought 
victory.  Out  of  six  hundred  and  seventy  horsemen,  only 
one  hundred  and  ninety-eight  returned  alive.  It  was 
about  this  charge  that  the  poet  Tennyson  wrote  the  follow- 
ing poem. 


116  A   FIFTH   READER 

XVIII.     CHARGE  OF  THE   LIGHT   BRIGADE. 

By  Alfred  Tennyson. 

HALF  a  league,  half  a  league, 
Half  a  league  onward, 
All  in  the  valley  of  death 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 
"  Forward,  the  Light  Brigade ! 
Charge  for  the  guns  !  "   he  said : 
Into  the  valley  of  Death 
Rode  the  six  hundred. 

"  Forward,  the  Light  Brigade ! " 
Was  there  a  man  dismayed? 
Not  though  the  soldiers  knew 

Some  one  had  blundered: 
Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why, 
Theirs  but  to  do  and  die; 
Into  the  valley  of  Death 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 

Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Cannon  to  left  of  them, 
Cannon  in  front  of  them, 

Volleyed  and  thundered ; 
Stormed  at  with  shot  and  shell. 
Boldly  they  rode,  and  well; 
Into  the  jaws  of  Death, 
Into  the  mouth  of  Hell, 

Rode  the  six  hundred. 


CHARGE    OF    THE    LIGHT    BRIGADE.  117 

Flashed  all  their  sabers  bare, 
Flashed  as  they  turned  in  air, 
Sab'ring  the  gunners  there, 
Charging  an  army,  while 

All  the  world  wondered : 
Plunged  in  the  batteiy -smoke. 
Right  through  the  line  they  broke  j 

Cossack  and  Russian 
Reeled  from  the  saber-stroke. 

Shattered  and  sundered. 
Then  they  rode  back,  but  not  — 

Not  the  six  hundred. 

Cannon  to  right  of  them. 
Cannon  to  left  of  them, 
Cannon  behind  them 

Volleyed  and  thundered ; 
Stormed  at  with  shot  and  shell. 
While  horse  and  hero  fell, 
They  that  had  fought  so  well 
Came  through  the  jaws  of  Death 
Back  from  the  mouth  of  Hell, 
All  that  was  left  of  them  — 

Left  of  six  hundred. 

When  can  their  glory  fade? 
Oh,  the  wild  charge  they  made ! 

All  the  world  wondered. 
Honor  the  charge  they  made  I 
Honor  the  Light  Brigade,  — 

Noble  six  hundred ! 


118  A   FIFTH    READER. 


XIX.     AMERICA. 

By  Samuel  Francis  Smith. 

MY  country,  't is  of  thee, 
Sweet  land  of  liberty, 
Of  thee  I  sing; 
Land  where  my  fathers  died, 
Land  of  the  Pilgrims'  pride, 
From  every  mountain-side 
Let  freedom  ring. 

My  native  country,  thee. 
Land  of  the  noble  free, 

Thy  name  I  love ; 
I  love  thy  rocks  and  rills, 
Thy  woods  and  templed  hills; 
My  heart  with  rapture  thrills 

Like  that  above. 

Let  music  swell  the  breeze, 
And  ring  from  all  the  trees, 

Sweet  Freedom's  song; 
Let  mortal  tongues  awake. 
Let  all  that  breathe  partake. 
Let  rocks  their  silence  break. 

The  sound  prolong. 

Our  fathers'  God,  to  Thee, 
Author  of  liberty. 

To  Thee  we  sing ; 
Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
With  Freedom's  holy  light; 
Protect  us  by  Thy  Might, 

Great  God,  our  King. 


AMERICA. 


119 


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Copyright,  1895,  by  Silver,  Burdett  &  Company. 

.   SAMUEL    FRANCIS    SMITH,    AUTHOR    OF    "AMERICA.' 

From  a  Photograph  of  Dr.  Smith  taken 
in  the  Editorial  Rooms  of  Siher,  Burdett 
&  Compantj,  April  15th,  1895,  a  few 
months  before  his  death. 


120  A   FIFTH   READER. 

XX.     GENERAL  JOSEPH   WARREN'S   ADDRESS. 

By  John  Pierpont. 

STAND  r  the  ground  's  your  own,  my  braves  ! 
Will  ye  give  it  up  to  slaves? 
Will  ye  look  for  greener  graves? 

Hope  ye  mercy  still  ? 
What 's  the  mercy  despots  feel  ? 
Hear  it  in  that  battle  peal  I 
Read  it  on  yon  bristling  steel! 
Ask  it,  ye  who  will ! 

Fear  ye  foes  who  kill  for  hire  ? 
Will  ye  to  your  homes  retire? 
Look  behind  you!  they're  afire! 

And  before  you,  see 
Who  have  done  it !     From  the  vale 
On  they  come  !  —  and  will  ye  quail  ? 
Leaden  rain  and  iron  hail 

Let  their  welcome  be ! 

In  the  God  of  battles  trust! 
Die  we  may,  and  die  we  must ; 
But,  oh,  where  can  dust  to  dust 

Be  consigned  so  well 
As  where  heaven  its  dews  shall  shed 
On  the  martyred  patriot's  bed? 
And  the  rocks  shall  raise  their  head, 

Of  his  deeds  to  tell 


OUR  BODY.  121 


XXI.  LOVE  OF  COUNTRY. 

By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

BREATHES  there  the  man  with  soul  so  dead 
Who  never  to  himself  hath  said, 

"  This  is  my  own,  my  native  land ! " 
Whose  heart  hath  ne'er  within  him  burned, 
As  home  his  footsteps  he  hath  turned 

From  wandering  on  a  foreign  strand? 

If  such  there  breathe,  go,  mark  him  well  I 
For  him  no  minstrel  raptures  swell; 
High  though  his  titles,  proud  his  name, 
Boundless  his  wealth  as  wish  can  claim, — 
Despite  those  titles,  power,  and  pelf, 
The  wretch,. concenter'd  all  in  self, 
Living,  shall  forfeit  fair  renown. 
And,  doubly  djdng,  shall  go  down 
To  the  vile  dust  from  whence  he  sprung, 
Unwept,  unhonored,  and  unsung. 


XXII.     OUR   BODY. 
By  Helen  Hunt  Jackson. 

ARE  we  not  each  of  us  born  into  the  world  provided  with 
one  body,  and  only  one,  which  must  last  us  as  long 
as  we  live  in  this  world  ?  Is  it  not  by  means  of  this  body 
that  we  feel,  learn,  and  accomplish  everything  ?  Is  it  not 
a  most  wonderful  and  beautiful  set  of  instruments?     Can 


122  A   FIFTH   READER. 

we  ever  replace  any  of  them?  Can  we  ever  have  any  of 
them  made  as  good  as  new  after  it  has  been  seriously  out 
of  order  ? 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  count  up  all  the  things  which 
human  beings  can  do  by  help  of  these  wonderful  bodies  in 
which  we  live.  Think  for  a  moment  of  all  the  things  you 
do  in  any  one  day,  —  all  the  breathing,  eating,  drinking,  and 
running ;  all  the  thinking,  speaking,  feeling,  learning,  you 
can  do  in  one  day.  Now  if  any  one  of  the  instruments  is 
seriously  out  of  order,  you  cannot  do  one  of  these  things  so 
well  as  you  know  how  to  do  it. 

When  any  one  of  the  instruments  is  seriously  out  of  order 
there  is  always  a  pain.  If  the  pain  is  severe  you  cannot 
think  of  anything  else  while  it  lasts ;  all  your  other  instru- 
ments are  of  no  use  to  you,  just  because  of  the  pain  in  that 
one  which  is  out  of  order. 

If  the  pain  and  the  disordered  condition  last  a  long  while, 
the  instrument  is  so  injured  that  it  is  never  as  strong  again 
as  it  was  in  the  beginning.  All  the  doctors  in  the  world 
cannot  make  it  so. 

Then  you  begin  to  be  what  people  call  an  invalid,  —  that  is, 
a  person  who  has  not  the  full  use  of  some  one  part  of  his 
body ;  who  is  never  exactly  comfortable  himself,  and  who  is 
likely  to  make  everybody  about  him  more  or  less  uncom- 
fortable. 

I  do  not  know  anything  in  this  world  half  so  strange  as 
the  way  in  which  people  neglect  their  bodies,  —  their  one  set 
of  instruments  that  they  can  never  replace,  and  can  do  very 
little  towards  mending. 

When  it  is  too  late,  when  the  instruments  are  hopelessly 
out  of  order,  then  they  do  not  neglect  them  any  longer; 
then  they  run  about  frantically,  trying  to  find  some  one  to 


OUR  BODY.  123 


help  them.  And  this  is  one  of  the  saddest  sights  in  the 
world,  —  a  man  or  a  woman  running  from  one  climate  to 
another  climate,  and  from  one  doctor  to  another  doctor, 
trying  to  cure  or  patch  up  a  body  that  is  grievously  out 
of  order. 

Now,  perhaps  you  will  say  that  this  is  a  dismal  and  need- 
less sermon  to  preach  to  young  people ;  for  have  they  not 
their  fathers  and  mothers  to  take  care  of  them  ?  Very  true  ; 
but  fathers  and  mothers  cannot  always  be  with  their  chil- 
dren, fathers  and  mothers  cannot  always  make  their  children 
remember  and  obey  their  directions. 

More  than  all,  it  is  very  hard  to  make  children  realize  that 
it  is  of  any  great  importance  that  they  should  keep  all  the 
laws  of  health.  I  know  when  I  was  a  little  girl,  when  peo- 
ple said  to  me,  "  You  must  not  do  thus  and  thus,  for  if  you 
do  you  will  take  cold,"  I  used  to  think,  "  Who  cares  for  a  little 
cold?     Supposing  I  do  catch  one  !  " 

And  when  I  was  shut  up  in  the  house  for  several  days 
with  a  bad  sore  throat,  and  suffered  great  pain,  I  never 
blamed  myself.  I  thought  that  sore  throats  must  come  now 
and  then,  and  that  I  must  take  my  turn. 

But  now  I  have  learned  that  if  no  laws  of  health  were 
ever  broken  we  need  never  have  a  day's  illness,  might  grow 
old  free  from  suffering,  and  at  last  gradually  fall  asleep 
instead  of  dying  terrible  deaths  from  disease. 

I  am  all  the  while  wishing  that  I  had  known  this  when  I 
was  young.  If  I  had  known  it,  I  will  tell  you  what  I 
would  have  done.  I  would  have  just  tried  the  experiment 
of  never  doing  a  single  thing  which  could  by  any  possibility 
put  any  one  of  the  instruments  of  my  body  out  of  order. 

I  wish  I  could  see  some  girl  or  boy  try  it  yet :  never  to 
sit  "up  late  at  night ;  never  to  have  close,  bad  air  in  the 


184  A  FIFTH   READER. 

room ;  never  to  sit  with  wet  feet ;  never  to  go  out  in  the  cold 
weather  without  being  properly  wrapped  up ;  never  to  go 
out  of  a  hot  room  into  the  cold  out-door  air  without  putting 
on  some  extra  wrap ;  never  to  eat  or  drink  an  unwholesome 
thing ;  never  to  let  a  day  pass  without  at  least  two  hours 
of  exercise  in  the  open  air ;  never  to  read  a  word  by  twi- 
light or  in  the  cars  ;  never  to  let  the  sun  be  shut  out  of  the 
rooms. 

This  is  a  pretty  long  list  of  nevers,  but  "  never  "  is  the 
only  word  that  wins.  After  you  have  once  made  up  your 
mind  "  never  "  to  do  a  certain  thing,  that  is  the  end  of  it  if 
you  are  a  sensible  person. 

But  if  you  only  say,  "This  is  a  bad  habit:  I  will  be  a 
little  on  my  guard,  and  not  do  it  too  often,"  you  Avill  find 
temptation  knocking  at  your  door  twenty  times  a  day,  and 
you  will  have  to  be  fighting  the  same  old  battles  over  again 
as  long  as  you  live. 

But  when  you  have  laid  down  to  yourself  the  rules  that 
you  mean  to  keep,  —  the  things  you  will  always  do  and  the 
things  you  will  "  never  "  do,  —  your  life  at  once  arranges 
itself  into  beautiful  order. 

Do  not  think  it  would  be  a  sort  of  slavery  to  give  up  so 
much  for  the  sake  of  keeping  your  body  in  order  !  It  is  the 
only  real  freedom,  though  at  first  it  does  not  seem  so  much 
like  freedom  as  the  other  way. 

I  think  the  difference  between  a  person  who  has  kept  all  the 
laws  of  health,  and  thereby  has  a  good,  strong,  sound  body 
that  can  do  whatever  he  wants  to  do,  and  a  person  who  has 
let  his  body  get  all  out  of  order,  so  that  he  has  to  lie  in  bed 
half  his  time  and  suffer,  is  quite  as  great  a  difference  as  there 
is  between  a  creature  with  wings  and  a  creature  without 
wings.     Do  n't  you  ? 


THE    SONG    OF    STEAM.  125 

XXIII.     THE   SONG   OF   STEAM. 

By  George  Washington  Cutter. 

HARNESS  me  down  with  your  iron  bands ; 
Be  sure  of  your  curb  and  rein ; 
For  I  scorn  the  power  of  your  puny  hands, 

As  the  tempest  scorns  a  chain. 
How  I  laughed  as  I  lay  concealed  from  sight 

For  many  a  countless  hour, 
At  the  childish  boast  of  human  might, 
And  the  pride  of  human  power! 

When  I  saw  an  army  upon  the  land, 

A  navy  upon  the  seas. 
Creeping  along,  a  snail-like  band, 

Or  waiting  the  wayward  breeze-, 
When  I  marked  the  peasant  faintly  reel 

With  the  toil  which  he  daily  bore, 
As  he  feebly  turned  the  tardy  wheel, 

Or  tugged  at  the  weary  oar; 

When  I  measured  the  panting  courser's  speed. 

The  flight  of  the  courier  dove. 
As  they  bore  the  law  a  king  decreed, 

Or  the  lines  of  impatient  love,  — 
I  could  not  but  think  how  the  world  would  feel, 

As  these  were  outstripped  afar, 
When  I  should  be  bound  to  the  rushing  keel. 

Or  chained  to  the  flying  car. 

Ha,  ha !  they  found  me  out  at  last ; 
They  invited  me  forth  at  length ; 


126  A   FIFTH    READER. 

And  I  rushed  to  my  throne  with  a  thunder-blast, 
And  laughed  in  my  iron  strength. 

Oh,  then  ye  saw  a  wondrous  change 
On  the  earth  and  the  ocean  wide, 

Where  now  my  fiery  armies  range, 
Nor  wait  for  wind  and  tide. 

Hurrah !  hurrah !  the  waters  o'er 

The  mountain's  steep  decline; 
Time  —  space  —  have  yielded  to  my  power; 

The  world  —  the  world  is  mine  ! 
The  rivers  the  sun  hath  earliest  blest, 

Or  those  where  his  beams  decline; 
The  giant  streams  of  the  queenly  West, 

And  the  Orient  floods  divine. 

The  ocean  pales   where'er  I  sweep  — 

I  in  my  strength  rejoice ; 
And  the  monsters  of  the  briny  deep 

Cower,  trembling,  at  my  voice. 
I  carry  the  wealth  and  the  lord  of  earth. 

The  thoughts  of  his  god-like  mind; 
The  wind  lags  after  my  going  forth. 

The  lightning  is  left  behind. 

In  the  darksome  depths  of  the  fathomless  mine 

My  tireless  arm  doth  play, 
W^here  the  rocks  never  saw  the  sun  decline. 

Or  the  dawn  of  the  glorious  day. 
I  bring  earth's  glittering  jewels  up 

PVom  the  hidden  caves  below, 
And  I   make  the  fountain's  granite  cup 

With  a  crystal  gush  o'erflow. 


THE    SONG    OF    STEAM.    . 


127 


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128  A   FIFTH    READER. 

I  blow  the  bellows,  I  forge  the  steel, 

In  all  the  shops  of  trade; 
I  hammer  the  ore,  and  turn  the  wheel, 

Where  my  arms  of  strength  are  made; 
I  manage  the  furnace,  the  mill,  the  mint; 

I  carry,  I  spin,  I  weave; 
And  all  my  doings  I  put  into  print 

On  every  Saturday  eve. 

I  've  no  muscle  to  weaiy,  no  breast  to   decay. 

No  bones  to  be  ''laid  on  the  shelf," 
And  soon  I  intend  you  may  "go  and  play," 

While  I  manage  this  world  myself. 
But  harness  me  down  with  your  iron  bands. 

Be  sure  of  your  curb  and  rein ; 
For  I  scorn  the  power  of  your  puny  hands, 

As  the  tempest  scorns  a  chain! 


XXIV.     THE   DISCONTENTED  PENDULUM. 

By  Jane  Taylor. 

AN  old  clock  that  had  stood  for  fifty  years  in  a  farmer's 
kitchen,  without  giving  its  owner  any  cause  of  com- 
plaint, early  one  summer  morning,  before  the  farmer  was 
stirring,  suddenly  stopped. 

At  this  the  dial  plate  changed  countenance  with  alarm. 
The  hands  made  a  vain  effort  to  continue  their  course. 
The  wheels  stood  still  with  surprise.  The  weights  hung 
speechless. 

At  last  the  dial  determined  to  find  out  where  the  trouble 


THE    DISCONTENTED    PENDULUM.  129 

lay :  hands,  wheels,  and  weights,  with  one  voice,  said  they 
were  innocent. 

Soon  a  faint  tick  was  heard  below  from  the  pendulum, 
who  thus  spoke  :  "  I  confess  that  I  am  the  sole  cause  of  this 
stoppage;  and  I  am  willing  to  tell  you  why  I  have  acted 
thus.     The  truth  is,  that  I  am  tired  of  ticking." 

"  Lazy  wire ! "  exclaimed  the  dial  plate,  holding  up  its 
hands. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  replied  the  pendulum,  "  it  is  vastly  easy  for 
you.  Mistress  Dial,  who  have  always,  as  everybody  knows, 
set  yourself  above  me,  —  it  is  vastly  easy  for  you  to  accuse 
other  people  of  laziness  !  What  have  you  done  all  the  days 
of  your  life  but  stare  people  in  the  face,  and  amuse  your- 
self with  all  that  goes  on  in  the  kitchen  ?  How  would  you 
like  to  be  shut  up  -for  life  in  this  dark  closet,  wagging 
backwards  and  forwards  year  after  year,  as  I  do?" 

"  As  to  that,"  said  the  dial,  "  is  there  not  a  window  in 
your  house,  on  purpose  for  you  to  look  through?" 

"For  all  that,"  answered  the  pendulum,  "it  is  very  "dark 
here ;  and  although  there  is  a  window,  I  dare  not  stop 
even  for  an  instant  to  look  out.  Besides,  I  am  really  tired 
of  my  way  of  life  ;  and  if  you  wish,  I  '11  tell  you  how  I 
became  so." 

"Go  on,"  said  the  dial. 

"Well,  I  happened  this  morning  to  be  calculating  how 
many  times  I  should  have  to .  tick  in  the  course  of  merely 
the  next  twenty-four  hours.  Perhaps  some  of  you  above 
there  can  give  me  the  exact  sum." 

The  minute-hand,  being  quick  at  figures,  at  once  answered, 
"  Eighty-six  thousand  four  hundred  times." 

"  Exactly  so,"  replied  the  pendulum.     "  Now  I  appeal  to 

you  all,  if  the  very  thought  of  this  was  not  enough  to  tire 
3  0— r)R 


180  A   FIFTH   READER. 

one  out.  But  when  I  began  to  multiply  the  strokes  of  one 
day  by  those  of  months  and  years,  it  is  really  no  wonder  if 
I  felt  utterly  discouraged ;  so  this  morning,  thinks  I  to  my- 
self, I  '11  stop." 

The  dial  could  scarcely  keep  a  straight  face  during  this 
speech ;  but,  resuming  its  gravity,^  thus  replied :  "  Dear 
Ml".  Pendulum,  I  am  really  astonished  that  such  a  useful, 
industrious  person  as  yourself  should  have  acted  so  hastily. 
It  is  true  you  have  done  a  great  deal  of  work  in  your  time, 
and  so  have  we  all,  and  we  are  likely  to  do  a  great  deal 
more.  Now,  although  it  may  fatigue  us  to  think  of  this 
work,  the  question  is  whether  it  will  fatigue  us  to  do  it. 
Would  you  now  favor  me  with  about  half-a-dozen  strokes  to 
illustrate  my  argument  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  pendulum,  —  and  ticked  six  times 
at  its  usual  rate. 

"Now,"  went  on  the  dial,  "may  I  ask  if  that  exertion 
was  at  all  fatiguing  or  disagreeable  to  you  ?  " 

."  Not  in  the  least,"  replied  the  pendulum  ;  "  it  is  not  of 
six  strokes  that  I  complain,  nor  of  sixty,  but  of  millions  !  " 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  dial ;  "  but  remember  that  though 
you  may  think  of  a  million  strokes  in  an  instant,  you  are  re- 
quired to  execute  but  one  ;  and  that,  however  often  you  may 
hereafter  have  to  swing,  a  moment  will  always  be  given  you 
to  swing  in." 

"  That  idea  staggers  ^  me,  I  confess,"  said  the  pen- 
dulum. 

"  Then  I  hope,"  observed  the  dial  plate,  "  that  we  shall  all 
immediately  return  to  our  duty ;  for  the  servants  will  lie  in 
bed  as  long  as  we  stand  idling  thus." 

*  grav'i-ty,  soberness  ;  seriousness. 

*  stag'gers,  causes  to  doubt ;  overcomes. 


THE    FIRST    SHIP   OF   PETER    THE    GREAT.       131 

Thereupon  the  weights,  which  never  had  been  accused  of 
light  conduct,  used  all  their  influence  in  urging  him  to  pro- 
ceed. Well,  the  pendulum  was  obliging  enough  to  begin 
swinging,  and,  to  its  credit,  ticked  as  loud  as  ever.  Then 
the  wheels  began  to  turn,  and  the  hands  to  move,  while  a 
red  beam  of  the  rising  san  that  streamed  through  the  kitchen 
window  shone  full  upon  the  dial  plate,  till  it  brightened  up 
as  if  nothing  had  been  the  matter. 

When  the  farmer  came  down  to  breakfast  that  morning, 
and  looked  at  the  clock,  he  declared  that  his  watch  had 
gained  half  an  hour  in  the  night. 

Adapted. 


XXV.    THE   FIRST   SHIP   OF   PETER   THE  GREAT.* 

By  Eugene  Schuyler. 

PETER  THE  GREAT,  of  Russia,  while  a  youth,  had 
heard  somewhere,  that  in  foreign  countries  people  had 
an  instrument  by  which  distance  could  be  measured  without 
moving  from  the  spot. 

When  Prince  Jacob  Dolgoruki  was  about  to  start  on  his 
mission  to  France,  and  came  to  take  leave,  Peter  told  him 
of  this  wonderful  instrument,  and  begged  him  to  procure 
him  one  while  abroad.  Dolgoruki  told  him  that  he  himself 
had  once  had  one,  which  was  given  him  as  as  a  present, 
but  it  had  been  stolen,  and  that  he  would  certainly  not 
forget  to  bring  one  home. 

1  Peter  the  Great  was  the  first  great  ruler  of  Russia.  He  was  a 
fierce  tyrant,  but  very  wise,  and  it  is  to  his  efforts  that  Russia  owes  her 
civilization ;  for,  before  his  time,  she  was  only  a  half  civilized  country. 


132 


A   FIFTH   READER. 


On  DolgoruKi's  return  in  May,  1688,  the  first  question 
of  Peter  was  whether  he  had  fulfilled  his  promise ;  and 
great  was  the  excitement  as  the  box  was  opened  and  a 
parcel,  containing  an  astrolabe  ^  and  a  sextant,^  was  eagerly 
unwrapped.     But,  alas !  when  they  were  brought  out,  no 

one  knew  the  use 
of  them.  Dolgoruki 
scratched  his  head, 
and  said  that  he  had 
brought  the  instru- 
ments, as  directed ; 
but  it  had  never  oc- 
curred to  him  to  ask 
how  they  were  used. 
In  vain  Peter  sought 
some  one  who  knew 
how  to  use  the  sex- 
tant. At  last  his  new 
doctor  told  him  that 
in  the  German  suburb 
he  knew  of  a  man 
well  -  skilled  in  me- 
chanics, Franz    Tim- 

V 

mermann,  a  Dutch 
merchant,  who  had 
settled  in  Moscow,  and  who  had  a  certain  amount  of  edu- 
cation. Timmermann  was  brought  next  day.  He  looked 
at  the  instrument,  and,  after  a  long  inspection,  finally  said 
that  he  could  show  how  it  was  used. 

Immediately  he  measured  the  distance  to  a  neighboring 

^  as'tro-labe,  an  instrument  for  showing  the  positions  of  the  stars. 
2  Bez'tant,  an  instrument  for  measuring  angular  distances. 


PETER  THE    GREAT. 


THE    FIRST    SHIP    OF    PETER    THE    GREAT.       133 

house.  A  man  was  at  once  sent  to  pace  it,  and  found  the 
measurement  correct.  Peter  was  delighted,  and  asked  to  be 
instructed  in  the  use  of  the  new  instrument.  Timmermann 
said :  "  With  pleasure  ;  but  you  must  first  learn  arithmetic 
and  geometry."  Peter  at  once  began  studying  arithmetic. 
He  did  not  even  know  how  to  subtract  or  divide. 

He  now  set  to  work  with  a  will,  and  spent  his  leisure 
time,  both  day  and  night,  over  his  copy  books.     Geometry 


A    SEXTANT. 


led  to  geography  and  fortification.  The  old  globe  of  his 
schoolroom  was  sent  for  repairs,  and  he  had,  besides,  the 
one  in  metal  presented  to  his  father,  which  is  still  shown  in 
the  treasury  at  Moscow. 

From  this  time  Timmermann  became  one  of  Peter's 
constant  companions,  for  he  was  a  man  from  whom  some- 
thing new  could  always  be  learned.     A  few  weeks  later, 


134  A   FIFTH   READER. 

in  June,  1688,  as  Peter  was  wandering  about  one  of  his 
country  estates,  he  pointed  to  an  old  building  in  the  flax 
yard,  and  asked  one  of  his  attendants  what  it  was. 

"  A  storehouse,"  replied  the  man,  "  where  all  the  rubbish 
was  put  that  was  left  after  the  death  of  Ivan  Romanoff, 
who  used  to  live  here." 

With  the  natural  curiosity  of  a  boy,  Peter  had  the  doors 
opened,  went  in,  and  looked  about.  There  in  one  corner, 
turned  bottom  upward,  lay  a  boat,  yet  not  in  any  way  like 
those  flat-bottomed,  square-sterned  boats  which  he  had  seen 
on  the  river  Moskwa. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  That  is  an  English  boat,"  said  Timmermann. 

"  What  is  it  good  for  ?  Ws  it  better  than  our  boats  ?  " 
asked  Peter. 

"  If  you  had  sails  to  it,  it  would  go  not  only  with  the 
wind,  but  against  the  wind,"  replied  Timmermann. 

"  How  against  the  wind  ?     Can  that  be  possible  ?  " 

Peter  wished  to  try  it  at  once.  But,  after  Timmermann 
had  looked  at  the  boat  on  all  sides,  it  was  found  to  be  too 
rotten  for  use;  it  would  need  to  be  repaired  and  tarred, 
and,  besides  that,  a  mast  and  sails  would  have  to  be  made. 
Timmermann  thought  at  last  that  he  could  find  a  man 
capable  of  doing  this,  and  sent  for  a  certain  Carsten  Brandt, 
who  had  been  brought  from  Holland  about  1660  by  the 
Czar  Alexis,  for  the  j)urpose  of  constructing  vessels  on 
the  Caspian  Sea.  ^ 

The  old  man  looked  over  the  boat,  calked  it,  pul^ei^  the 
mast,  arranged  the  sail,  and  then  launched  it  on  the  river. 

There,  before  Peter's  eyes,  he  began  to  sail  up  and  down 
the  river,  turning  now  to  the  right  and  then  to  the  left. 
Peter's  excitement  was  intense.     He  called  out  to  him  to 


THE    FIRST    SHIP    OF    PETER    THE   GREAT.       135 

stop,  jumped  in,  and  himself  began  to  manage  the  boat 
under  Brandt's  directions. 

It  was  hard  for  the  boat  to  turn,  for  the  river  was  narrow, 
and  the  water  shallow.  Peter  eagerly  asked  where  a  broader 
piece  of  water  could  be  found,  and  was  told  of  a  small 
lake  near  by.  The  boat  was  di-agged  overland  to  the  lake. 
It  went  better,  but  still  not  to  his  satisfaction. 

At  last  Peter  found  that  about  fifty  miles  away  there 
was  a  large  lake,  where  he  would  have  plenty  of  room  to 
sail.  It  was  not  so  easy,  however,  for  Peter  to  get  there. 
It  was  not  customary  for  the  Czars  or  members  of  their 
family  to  make  journeys  without  some  recognized  object, 
and  what  should  a  boy  of  this  age  do  so  far  away,  alone  ? 

An  idea  struck  Peter.  It  was  then  June,  and  there  was 
a  great  festival  at  the  Troitsa  Monastery.  He  asked  his 
mother's  permission  to  go  to  Troitsa  to  attend  the  festival, 
and  as  soon  as  the  religious  ser^dce  was  over,  he  drove  as 
fast  as  he  could  to  the  lake.  But  he  soon  learned  that  there 
was  no  boat  there,  and  he  knew  that  it  was  too  far  to  bring 
the  little  English  boat.  Anxiously  he  asked  Brandt  whether 
it  were  not  possible  to  build  some  boats  there. 

"Yes,  sire,"  said  Brandt,  "but  we  shall  require  many 
things." 

"  Ah,  well !  that  is  of  no  consequence,"  said  Peter.  "  We 
can  have  anything." 

And  he  hastened  back  to  Moscow  with  his  head  full  of 
visions  of  shipbuilding.  He  scarcely  knew  how  to  manage 
it,  because  to  engage  in  such  a  work  at  the  lake  would 
require  his  living  there  for  some  time,  and  he  knew  that  it 
would  be  hard  to  bring  his  mother  to  consent  to  this. 

At  last  he  extorted  this  consent.  He  hastened  off,  to- 
gether with  Carsten  Brandt  and  a  shipbuilder  named  Kort, 


136  A   FIFTH    READER. 

an  old  comrade  whom  Brandt  had  succeeded  in  finding  at 
Moscow.     Timmermann,  probably,  also  accompanied  him. 

Fast  as  Peter  and  his  comrades  worked  together,  —  for  he 
had  remained  with  them  in  the  woods,  —  there  was  so  much 
to  do  in  the  preparation  of  timber,  in  the  construction  of 
huts  to  live  in,  and  in  the  building  of  a  dock  from  which  to 
launch  the  boats,  that  it  came  time  for  Peter  to  return  long 
before  any  boat  was  ready,  and  there  was  no  sign  that  any 
could  be  completed  before  winter  set  in. 

Peter's  mother  had  grown  anxious  about  her  son.  He 
had  been  away  nearly  a  month,  and  political  affairs  were 
taking  a  serious  turn.  Much  to  his  regret,  therefore,  Peter 
went  back  to  Moscow  to  celebrate  his  mother's  name's-day,i 
on  September  6,  leaving  his  faithful  Dutchmen  strict  in- 
junctions to  do  their  utmost  to  have  the  boats  ready  by  the 
following  spring. 

The  place  chosen  by  Peter  for  his  shipbuilding  was  on 
the  east  side  of  the  lake.  The  only  evidence  still  remaining 
of  Peter's  visit  are  the  site  of  a  church  there,  dedicated  to 
the  Virgin  of  the  Ships,^  and  the  decaying  remains  of  some 
piles  under  the  water  which  apparently  formed  the  founda- 
tion of  the  wharf  or  the  landing  place. 

The  boat  which  Peter  discovered  on  his  estate  is  thought 
by  many  to  have  been  constructed  in  Russia  by  Dutch 
carpenters  in  1688,  during  the  reign  of  the  Czar  Alexis. 
By  others,  it  is  supposed  to  be  a  boat  sent  by  Queen  Eliza- 
beth to  the  Czar  Ivan  the  Terrible. 

Ever  since  Peter's  time  it  has  borne  the  name  of  the 
"  Grandsire  of  the  Russian  Fleet,"  and  is  preserved  with  the 
greatest  care  in  a  small  brick  building  near  the  Cathedral  of 

1  Name's-day,  feast  day  of  the  saint  whose  name  one  bears. 

'^  Virgin  of  the  Ships,  a  title  given  in  Russia  to  the  Virgin  Mary. 


THE    DEATH    OF    THE    FLOWERS.  137 

Saints  Peter  and  Paul,  within  the  fortress  of  St.  Petersburg. 
In  1870,  on  the  celebration  of  the  two  hundredth  anniver- 
sary of  Peter's  birth,  it  was  one  of  the  chief  objects  in  the 
great  parade  at  St.  Petersburg;  and  again,  in  1872,  it 
was  conveyed  with  much  pomp  and  solemnity  to  Moscow, 
where,  for  a  time,  it  formed  a  part  of  a  great  exhibition  in 
that  city. 


XXVI.    THE   DEATH   OF  THE   FLOWERS. 

By  William  Cullen  Bryant. 

THE  melancholy  days  are  come,  the  saddest  of  the  year. 
Of  wailing  winds,  and  naked  woods,  and   meadows 
brown  and  sear. 
Heaped  in  the  hollows  of  the  grove,  the  autumn  leaves  lie 

dead; 
They  rustle  to  the  eddying  gust,  and  to  the  rabbit's  tread ; 
The  robin  and  the  wren  are  flown,  and  from  the  shrubs  the 

jay, 

And    from   the   wood-top   calls    the  crow   through  all  the 
gloomy  day. 

Where  are  the  flowers,  the  fair  young  flowers,  that  lately 

sprang  and  stood 
In  brighter  light  and  softer  airs,  a  beauteous  sisterhood  ? 
Alas  !  they  all  are  in  their  graves,  the  gentle  race  of  flowers 
Are  lying  in  their  lowly  beds  with  the  fair  and  good  of 

ours. 
The  rain  is  falling  where  they  lie,  but  the  cold  November 

i-ain 
Calls  not  from  out  the  gloomy  earth  the  lovely  ones  again. 


138  A   FIFTH   READER. 

The  windflower  and  the  violet,  they  perished  long  ago, 
And  the  brier  rose  and  the  orchis  died  amid  the  summer 

glow ; 
But  on  the  hills  the  goldenrod,  and  the  aster  in  the  wood. 
And  the  yellow  sunflower  by  the  brook,  in  autumn  beauty 

stood. 
Till  fell  the  frost  from  the  clear,  cold  heaven,  as  falls  the 

plague  on  men. 
And  the  brightness  of  their  smile  was  gone  from  upland, 

glade,  and  glen. 

And  now  when  comes  the  calm,  mild  day,  as  still  such  days 

will  come. 
To   call   the  squirrel   and  the  bee  from  out  their  winter 

home ;  -* 

When  the  sound  of  dropping  nuts  is  heard,  though  all  the 

trees  are  still. 
And  twinkle  in  the  smoky  light  the  waters  of  the  rill. 
The  south  wind  searches  for  the  flowers  whose  fragrance 

late  he  bore, 
And  sighs  to  find  them  in  the  wood  and  by  the  stream  no 

more. 

And  then  I  think  of  one  who  in  her  youthful  beauty  died. 
The  fair,  meek  blossom  that  grew  up,  and  perished  by  my 

side. 
In  the  cold,  moist  earth  we  laid  her,  when  the  forest  cast 

the  leaf, 
And  we  wept  that  one  so  lovely  should  have  a  life  so  brief  : 
Yet  not  unmeet  was  it  that  one  like  that  young  friend  of 

ours. 
So  gentle  and  so  beautiful,  should  perish  with  the  flowers. 


GOING    A-MAYING.  139 


XXVII.     qOING   A-MAYINQ. 

By  Robert  Herrick. 

GET  up^  get  up^  for  shame)  the  blooming  Morn 
Upon  her  wings  presents  the  god  unshorn. 
See  how  Aurora  ^  throws  her  fair 
Fresh-quilted  colors  through  the  air; 
Get  up,  sweet  slug-a-bed,  and  see 
The  dew-bespangled  herb  and  tree. 

Each  flower  has  wept,  and  bow'd  toward  the  east, 

Above  an  hour  since,  yet  you  not  drest, 
Nay :  not  so  much  as  out  of  bed ; 
When  all  the  birds  have  matins '-^  said, 
And  sung  their  thankful  hymns ;  't  is  sin, 
Nay,  profanation  to  keep  in. 

When  as  a  thousand  virgins  on  this  day 

Spring,  sooner  than  the  lark,  to  fetch  in  May. 

Rise,  and  put  on  j^our  foliage,  and  be  seen 
To  come  forth,  like  the  springtime,  fresh  and  green, 
And  sweet  as  Flora.^     Take  no  care 
For  jewels  for  your  gowne  or  hair  ; 
Fear  not,  the  leaves  will  strew 
Gems  in  abundance  upon  you  ; 
Besides,  the  childhood  of  the  day  has  kept. 
Against  you  come,  some  orient*  pearls  unwept. 
Come,  and  receive  them  while  the  light 
Hangs  on  the  dew-locks  of  tlie  night; 

^  Au-ro'ra,  goddess  of  the  morning.        s  Flo'ra,  goddess  of  the  flowers. 
2  mat'ins,  morning  prayers.  4  o'ri-ent,  eastern. 


140  A   FIFTH   READER. 

And  Titan  ^  on  the  eastern  hill 
Retires  himself,  or  else  stands  still 

Till  you  come  forth.     Wash,  dress,  be  brief  in  praying ; 

Few  beads  are  best,  when  once  we  go  a-Maying. 

Come,  my  Corinna,  come ;  and,  coming,  mark 

How  each  field  turnip  a  street,  each  street  a  park 

Made  green,  and  trimm'd  with  trees ;  see  how 
Devotion  gives  each  house  a  bough, 
Or  branch;  each  porch,  each  door,  ere  this, 
An  ark,  a  tabernacle  is. 

Made  up  of  whitethorn  neatly  interwove ; 

As  if  here  were  those  cooler  shades  of  love. 

And  sin  no  more,  as  we  have  done,  by  staying; 

But,  my  Corinna,  come,  let's  go  a-Maying. 


XXVIII.     AN   ORDER   FOR  A   PICTURE. 

By  Alice  Gary. 

OH,  good  painter,  tell  me  true, 
Has  your  hand  the  cunning  to  draw 
Shapes  of  things  that  you  never  saw? 
Aye  ?     Well,  here  is  an  order  for  you. 

Woods  and  cornfields  a  little  brown, — 

The  picture  must  not  be  over  bright, — 
'  Yet  all  in  the- golden  and  gracious  light 
Of  a  cloud  when  the  summer  sun  is  down. 
Alway  and  alway,  night  and  morn. 
Woods  upon  woods,  with  fields  of  corn 

^  Ti'tau,  one  of  an  ancient  race  of  giants  who  were  supposed  to  have 
inhabited  and  controlled  the  earth  before  men. 


AN    ORDER    FOR    A    PICTURE.  141 

Lying  between  them,  not  quite  §eaj^ 
And  not  in  the  full,  thick,  leafy  bloom. 
When  the  wind  can  hardly  find  breathing  room 

Under  their  tassels,  —  cattle  near. 
Biting  shorter  the  short  green  grass. 
And  a  hedge  of  sumach  and  sassafras. 
With  bluebirds  twittering  all  around,  — 
(Ah,  good  painter,  you  can't  paint  sound  I). 

These  and  the  little  house  where  I  was  born, 
Low  and  little  and  black  and  old. 
With  children,  many  as  it  can  hold, 
All  at  the  windows,  open  wide, — 
Heads  and  shoulders  clear  outside, 

And  fair  young  faces  all  ablush ; 
Perhaps  you  may  have  seen,  some  day,  ' 
Roses  crowding  the  self-same  way. 

Out  of  a  wilding,  way-side,  bush. 

Listen  closer.     When  you  have  done 

With  woods  and  cornfields'  and  grazing  herds, 
A  lady,  the  loveliest  ever  the  sun 
Looked  do^vn  upon,  you  must  paint  for  me ; 
Oh,  if  I  only  could  make  you  see 

The  clear  blue  eyes,  the  tender  smile. 
The  sovereign  sweetness,  the  gentle  grace, 
The  woman's  soul  and  the  angel's  face 

That  are  beaming  on  me  all  the  while! 

I  need  not  speak  these  foolish  words : 
Yet  one  word  tells  you  all  I  would  say,  — 
She  is  my  mother:  you  will  agree 
That  all  the  rest  may  be  thrown  away. 


143  A   FIFTH    READER. 

Two  little  urchins  at  her  knee 
You  must  paint,  sir,  one  like  me,  — 

The  other  with  a  clearer  brow, 
And  the  light  of  his  adventurous  eyes- 
Flashing  with  boldest  enterprise  : 
At  ten  years  old  he  went  to  sea,  — 

God  knoweth  if  he  be  living  now, — 
He  sailed  in  the  good  ship  "  Commodore," 
Nobody  ever  crossed  her  track 
To  bring  us  news,  and  she  never  came  back. 

Ah,  it  is  twenty  long  years  and  more. 

Since  that  old  ship  went  out  of  the  bay 
With  my  great-hearted  brother  on  her  deck: 
I  watched  him  till  he  shrank  to  a  speck. 

And  his  face  was  toward  me  all  the  way. 
Bright  his  hair  was,  a  golden  brown. 

The  time  we  stood  at  our  mother's  knee; 
That  beauteous  head,  if  it  did  go  down. 

Carried  sunshine  into  the  sea ! 

Out  in  the  fields  one  summer  night 

We  were  together,  half  afraid 

Of  the  corn-leaves'  rustling,  and  of  the  shade 
Of  the  high  hills,  stretching  so  still  and  far, 
Loitering  till  after  the  low  little  light 

Of  the  candle  shone  through  the  open  door, 
And,  over  the  haystack's  pointed  top, 
All  of  a  tremble,  and  ready  to  drop 

The  first  half-hour,  the  great  yellow  star, 
That  we,  with  staring,  ignorant  eyes. 

Had  often  and  often  watched  to  see 


AN    ORDER    FOR    A    PICTURE.  143 

Propped  and  held  in  its  place  in  the  skies 

By  the  fork  of  a  tall  mulberry  tree, 

Which  close  in  the  edge  of  our  flax  field  grew,  — 
Dead  at  the  top,  —  just  one  branch  full 
Of  leaves,  notched  round,  and  lined  with  wool, 

From  which  it  tenderly  shook  the  dew 
Over  our  heads  when  we  came  to  play 
In  its  handbreath  of  shadow  day  by  day. 

Afraid  to  go  home,  sir ;  for  one  of  us  bore 
A  nest  full  of  speckled  and  thin-shelled  eggs,  — 
The  other,  a  bird,  held  fast  by  the  legs, 
Not  so  big  as  a  straw  of  wheat: 
The  berries  we  gave  her  she  would  n't  eat, 
But  cried  and  cried,  till  we  held  her  bill. 
So  slim  and  shining,  to  keep  her  still. 

At  last  we  stood  at  our  mother's  knee, 

Do  you  think,  sir,  if  you  try, 

You  can  paint  the  look  of  a  lie  ? 

If  you  can,  pray  have  the  grace 

To  put  it  solely  in  the  face 
Of  the  urchin  that  is  likest  me ; 

I  thirik  't  was  solely  mine,  indeed : 
But  that 's  no  matter,  —  paint  it  so  ; 

The  eyes  of  our  mother  (take  good  heed)  — 
Looking  not  on  the  nestful  of  eggs. 
Nor  the  fluttering  bird,  held  so  fast  by  the  legs. 
But  straight  through  our  faces  down  to  our  lies, 
And  oh,  with  such  injured,  reproachful  surprise ! 
I  felt  my  heart  bleed  where  that  glance  went,  as  though 
A  sharp  blade  struck  through  it.     You,  sir,  know, 


144  A   FIFTH   READER. 


That  you  on  the  canvas  are  to  repeat 

Things  that  are  fairest,  things  most  sweet, — 

Woods  and  cornfields  and  mulberry  tree, — 

The  mother,— the  lads,  with  their  bird,  at  her  knee: 

But,  oh,  that  look  of  reproachful  woe ! 
High  as  the  heavens  your  name  I  '11  shout, 
If  you  paint  me  the  picture,  and  leave  that  out. 


XXIX.    OUR  NORTHERN  FOREFATHERS. 

IN  the  northern  part  of  Europe  the  scenery  is  wild  and 
rugged;  there  are  mountains  steeo  and  rocky,  high, 
sharp  cliffs,  and  deep  valleys.  Violent  storms  break  over 
the  land :  in  summer,  of  rain  and  wind,  with  thunder  and 
lightning;  in  winter,  of  snow  and  sleet. 

Especially  is  the  sea-coast  grand  and  fierce  and  impressive. 
Inlets  of  the  sea,  called  fjords  (pronounced  fyords),  have 
broken  through  the  rocky  shores  and  extend  far  inland. 
When  the  fierce  storms  rage  over  the  sea,  mighty  waves 
rush  into  these  fjords  and  break  with  terrible  force  against 
the  steep  cliffs.  The  winters  are  long  and  hard ;  ice  and 
snow  cover  all  the  country  and  fierce  cold  wraps  the  land. 

What  is  harder  still  to  bear,  it  is  dark  nearly  all  winter. 
One  long  night  extends  from  autumn  to  spring ;  the  sun 
just  peeps  above  the  horizon  for  a  little  wliile  at  mid-day, 
and  then  sinks  back  again.  But  the  summers  are  one  long 
day;  the  sun  seems  to  move  from  east  to  west,  dipping 
below  the  western  sky,  and  then  to  gWile  along  its  edge 
to  the  north  and  back  again  to  the  east. 


OUR  NORTHERN  FOREFATHERS.       145 

All  this  is  in  the  extreme  north ;  but  farther  south,  in  Nor- 
way and  Sweden,  in  the  winters  the  nights  are  very  long 
and  the  days  are  very,  very  short ;  and  in  the  summers  the 
days  are  very  long,  and  there  is  almost  no  night.  In  such  a 
country  only  a  very  strong  and  hardy  race  of  men  could 
live,  and  such  have  always  been  those  who  have  lived  there. 

Many,  many  yeafs  ago,  in  this  northern  land  lived  a  peo- 
ple known  as  Norsemen,  or  Northmen ;  they  are  the  ances- 
tors of  most-Tsf  us.  The  men  were  tall  and  finely  formed, 
with  long  yellow  hair  and  flowing  red  beards.  They  were 
strong,  brave,  fierce,  and  warlike ;  they  loved  the  raging 
tempests  and  the  snowbound  mountains  ;  they  loved  to  fight, 
and  to  venture  out  upon  the  stormy  seas  in  their  little  awk- 
ward boats.  Indeed,  so  daring  were  they  that  they  sailed 
away  across  the  ocean,  and  were  the  first  Europeans  to  see 
the  American  continent. 

-Like.vthe  people  of  Greece,  they  had  gods  and  goddesses 
whom  they  worshiped,  who  presided  over  the  powers  of  na- 
ture. There  were  gods  of  the  sky  and  of  the  sea,  of  thunder 
and  lightning,  of  spring  and  summer,  and  of  all  the  wonders 
of  nature  which  their  rugged  land  produced. 

Many  tales  of  the  great  deeds  of  these  gods  were  told,  aU 
of  wliich  stood  for  the  things  they  saw  in  nature,  —  such  as 
the  coming  of  spring,  the  breaking  down  of  the  mountains  of 
ice,  the  raging  of  the  sea,  and  the  fierce  crash  of  the  thunder. 

Some  of  these  people  lived  away  north  in  the  ice-bound 
island  of  Iceland,  and  there,  during  the  long  winter  nights, 
their  poets  wrote  out  these  stories  of  the  gods  in  books 
called  Eddas ;  and  thus  they  have  been  saved,  so  that  we, 
possibly  the  descendants  of  those  old  sea  kings,  may  know 
what  kind  of  people  our  forefathers  were,  what  they  thought, 
what  they  did,  and  what  gods  they  worshiped. 

11— 5r 


146  A    FIFTH    READER. 


XXX.    THE   BEGINNING  OF  WORLDS. 

AS  told  in  the  Eddas,  there  was  in  the  beginning  a  great 
unknown  spirit,  the  All  Father.  The  worlds  did  not 
exist,  but  instead  was  a  great  abyss  called  Ginnungagap ; 
north  of  this,  in  time,  arose  the  world  of  mist,  called  Niflheim, 
—  a  world  of  eternal  winter,  and  darkness,  and  fog.  Away 
to  the  south  arose  a  world  of  fire,  called  Muspellheim,  which 
glowed  with  terrible  heat,  while  above  it  were  fiery  clouds. 

From  Niflheim,  the  land  of  cold,  flowed  great  rivers  into 
the  abyss.  As  these  came  to  the  edges,  they  froze  and  hung 
over  in  vast  masses  of  ice.  Against  this  ice  mass  the  great 
heat  of  Muspellheim  shot  its  beams ;  this  caused  an  ice  mist 
to  arise,  which  finally  settled  down  and  down,  until  Gin- 
nungagap was  filled  with  white  frost,  or  rime. 

In  the  course  of  ages  this  grew  into  a  great  •  frost  giant, 
Ymir.  That  Ymir  might  have  something  to  eat,  the  All 
Father  made  a  cow,  Audhumla,  upon  whose  milk  the  giant 
fed ;  she  licked  the  icy  stones  upon  which  there  was  salt ; 
when  lo,  one  day,  as  the  ice  melted  away  beneath  her  tongue, 
a  being  like  a  man  sprang  forth,  tall  and  straight  and  shapely, 
and  his  name  was  Buri. 

In  time  he  had  a  son  named  Borr.  Borr  had  three  sons, 
named  Odin  (or  Odhin),  Vile,  and  Ve  ;  these  were  the  first  of 
the  gods*  The  frost  giant,  Ymir,  had  many  children,  who 
were  all  frost  giants,  and  all  evil  like  their  father.  Soon 
war  arose  between  the  good  gods  and  the  wicked  giants, 
in  which  Ymir  was.  killed,  and  all  his  children  but  one, 
who  escaped  with  his  wife. 

.       ] 


THE    BEGINNING    OF    WORLDS. 


147 


Enoraved  from  a  h'^ttd  Verman  Painting, 


148  A  FIFTH   READER. 

This  escape  was  very  unfortunate  for  the  gods,  for  in  time 
many  more  giants,  descendants  of  these  two,  grew  up  to  be 
the  enemies  of  the  gods  and  to  do  evil  in  the  world. 

Out  of  the  body  of  the  giant  Ymir,  the  gods  made  our 
world,  with  its  mountains  and  seas  and  fruitful  fields,  all 
covered  with  the  beautiful  dome,  the  sky.  In  the  sky  they 
set  the  golden  stars,  which  were  sparks  taken  from  the  land 
of  Muspellheim ;  two  larger  sparks  they  took,  and  of  them 
made  the  sun  and  moon.  These  they  put  in  golden  chariots 
with  swift  horses,  and  with  charioteers  to  drive  them  through 
the  sky,  —  the  sun  by  day,  and  the  moon  by  night. 

So  the  earth  was  made,  but  it  had  no  one  to  till  its  fields 
or  woi^  its  mines.  Then  the  gods  made  dwarfs  from  the 
mold  of  the  earth,  and  set  them  to  work  the  metals  —  iron, 
gold,  and  copper  —  in  dark  caverns  underground ;  and  they 
made  beautiful  elves  to  flit  among  the  clouds  in  the  air. 

One  day  as  Odin  and  his  two  brothers  were  walking  by 
the  sea  they  saw  two  beautiful  trees,  an  ash  and  an  elm, 
growing  side  by  side ;  of  the  ash  they  made  a  man,  and  of 
the  elm  a  woman.  Ask  and  Embla  were  the  names  of  the 
first  man  and  the  first  woman.  These  were  the  parents  of 
all  human  beings. 

In  time  there  came  to  be  nine  worlds.  One  of  them  was 
called  Asgard,  where  the  gods  lived ;  one  was  called  Jbtun- 
heim,  the  home  of  the  giants ;  and  one  was  called  Midgard, 
which  is  the  earth  where  man  lives. 

From  Asgard,  the  home  of  the  gods,  to  Midgard,  the  home 
of  men,  a  beautiful  bridge  was  built,  called  Bifrost,  upon 
which  the  gods  could  come  down  to  visit  the  earth.  This 
bridge  was  curiously  made  of  many  colors,  and  men  called 
it  the  Rainbow.  Finally  all  the  worlds  were  made  and 
peopled. 


ODIN.  149 


XXXI.    THE  GODS. 

THERE  were  twelve  gods  who  lived  in  Asgard,  most  of 
whom  were  Odin's  children.  The  chief  ones  of  these 
gods  were  Odin,  the  father,  who  was  god  of  heaven  and  of 
wisdom ;  Thor,  the  thunderer,  who  was  god  of  the  lightning 
and  of  tempests ;  Baldur,  the  god  of  light ;  and  Frey,  the 
god  of  summer  and  of  the  sun. 

The  names  of  many  of  our  days  come  from  these  gods. 
Tuesday  is  Tiwe's  day,  after  the  god  Tiw,  or  Tyr.  Wednes- 
day is  Woden's  day,  Woden  being  one  name  for  Odin. 
Thursday  is  Thor's  day,  and  Friday  is  Frey's  day. 

There  was  another  being  living  in  Asgard,  who  was  born 
not  of  the  gods  but  of  the  giants.  In  some  way  he  became 
the  friend  of  Odin,  and  was  admitted  to  his  home ;  but  the 
day  when  he  came  was  a  sad  day  for  the  gods,  for  he  was 
not  good  like  them,  but  wicked  like  the  giants,  and  caused 
great  suffering  and  evil  to  the  gods.  His  name  was  Loki. 
Because  he  found  no  one  in  Asgard  to  love  evil  like  him- 
self, he  went  to  Giant-land  to  live,  and  married  the  wicked 
giantess  Angurboda. 


XXXII.    ODIN. 

ODIN  was  the  highest  and  holiest  of  all  the  gods,  the 
god  of  heaven  and  of  wisdom  and  of  victoiy,  the 
friend  of  all  heroes.  Men  thought  of  him  as  tall,  dignified, 
strong,  with  dark,  curling  hair  and  beard,  dressed  in  a  suit 
of  gray,  wearing  a  wide,  blue  cloak  flecked  with  white,  as  the 
blue  sky  is  flecked  with  fleecy  clouds. 


150 


A   FIFTH    READER. 


Engraved  from  a  noted  Cicrman  Paintiixj. 


ODIN.  151 


Odin  sat  upon  a  lofty  throne,  wearing  on  his  arm  his 
precious  ring,  Draupnir,  from  which  dropped  fruitfulness 
upon  the  earth.  On  his  shoulders  sat  two  ravens,  named 
Memory  and  Thought ;  they  wandered  over  the  world  eveiy 
morning,  and  came  back  at  night  and  whispered  in  his  eai's  all 
that  they  had  seen  and  heard.  At  his  feet  crouched  two 
wolves,  which  he  always  fed  with  his  own  hand. 

Odin  had  in  Asgard  three  palaces.  One  was  called 
Gladsheim,  where  the  gods  sat  in  council ;  one,  Valaskjalf, 
where  was  Odin's  throne,  Hlidskjalf,  made  of  precious  met- 
als, with  a  footstool  of  pure  gold.  The  other  abode  of  Odin 
was  called  Valhalla. 

This  w^as  the  home  to  which  Odin  welcomed  all  brave 
heroes  who  had  fallen  fighting  in  battle,  for  he  was  the  god 
of  courage,  and  loved  these  heroes.  Odin  had  in  his  service 
many  beautiful  maidens,  called  Valkyrs ;  and  whenever  a 
battle  was  waged  among  men,  he  sent  these  maidens  down  to 
take  the  warriors  who  died  upon  the  field  bravely  fighting, 
and  bring  them  to  Valhalla ;  there  they  were  to  live 
forever. 

Odin  was  the  god  of  wisdom,  and  bestowed  this  great  gift 
upon  men  who  were  willing  to  seek.  it.  He  was  the  patron 
of  culture  and  of  heroes.  Odin  himself  did  not  attain  his 
wisdom  without  effort  and  suffering. 

The  wife  of  Odin,  and  the  queen  of  the  gods,  was 
Frigga,  who  was  also  the  supreme  goddess  of  love.  Frigga 
was  a  distinct  deity  from  Freya,  with  whom  she  is  often 
confounded. 

There  was  in  the  world  a  great  tree,  the  tree  of  life.  It 
extended  from  earth  to  heaven;  its  pleasant  shade  shel- 
tered gods  and  men ;  all  living  things  could  feed  upon  its 
branches.     Serpents  gnawed  at  its  roots ;  goats  gnawed  at  its 


152  A  FIFTH   READER. 

bark ;  and  birds  ate  its  leaves ;  but  it  could  not  be  killed. 
The  name  of  this  tree  was  Ygdrasil  (ig'dra-sil).  It  had 
three  great  roots  extending  down  to  three  wells,  or  springs. 
One  of  these  wells  was  below  Jotunheim,  the  world  of 
giants,  and  was  called  Mimir's  well  because  it  was  guarded 
by  an  ancient  giant  named  Mimir,  or  Memory. 

He  was  not  wicked  like  the  other  giants,  but  was  very  wise 
and  good.  This  well  which  he  guarded  was  the  fountain  of 
wisdom.  Whoever  drank  of  its  waters  was  made  wise. 
Mimir  himself  remembered  all  the  things  that  had  ever 
happened,  and  knew  their  causes ;  he  knew  more  even  than 
the  gods,  for  the  giants  were  older  than  the  gods. 

Odin,  the  father  of  the  gods,  wanted  wisdom;  and  so 
greatly  did  he  desire  it,  that  he  was  willing  to  make  any 
sacrifice  to  get  it;  so  he  went  to  Mimir,  down  under  the 
land  of  the  giants,  and  said  to  the  old  giant :  "  Give  me  a 
drink  of  the  clear  water  from  your  well." 

"  Ah ! "  said  Mimir,  "  this  water  is  never  given  to  any 
except  for  a  great  price ;  you  must  be  willing  to  give  up  the 
most  precious  thing  you  possess  before  you  can  drink  from 
Mimir's  fountain." 

But  this  did  not  disturb  Odin;  he  must  drink  from  the 
fountain  of  wisdom  at  whatever  cost,  so  he  said ;  *'  I  will 
give  you  whatever  you  ask." 

Mimir  looked  at  him,  admiring  his  courage,  and  at  length 
said :  "  If  you  would  drink,  you  must  leave  with  me  one 
of  your  eyes." 

The  price  was  great ;  but  Odin  quickly  paid  it,  drank  his 
draught  of  wisdom,  and  went  away  to  Asgard,  having  but 
one  eye,  but  the  wisdom  which  he  so  much  desired ;  and 
since  that  time  many  men  have  been  willing  to  give  all  they 
possessed  for  wisdom. 


THOR.  153 


XXXIII.     THOR. 

THOR  was  the  god  of  thunder.  He  was  the  strongest 
warrior  among  the  gods,  and  the  enemy  of  the  giants, 
against  whom  he  defended  Asgard.  He  lived  in  a  wonder- 
ful palace  called  Zilskinir,  or  Lightning.  It  was  the  largest 
palace  in  Asgard;  it  had  five  hundred  and  forty  halls, 
immense  in  size,  and  many  great  doors. 

Thor  rode  in  a  chariot  drawn  by  two  goats,  from  whose 
hoofs  and  teeth  flashed  sparks  of  fire.  Upon  his  head  he 
wore  a  crown  of  stars.  He  had  three  very  precious  things. 
The  first  was  his  mighty  hammer,  with  which  he  fought  the 
frost  giants.  The  second  was  his  belt  of  strength ;  when  he 
girded  himself  with  this,  his  divine  strength  was  doubled. 
The  third  was  his  iron  gauntlet;  with  this  he  grasped  his 
hammer  when  he  wanted  to  fight  the  giants,  for  the  hammer 
was  usually  red  hot,  so  that  he  could  not  grasp  it  with  his 
naked  hand. 

Thor  had  a  beautiful  wife  called  Sif.  He  loved  her  very 
dearly,  and  admired  her  beauty.  Especially  did  he  admire 
her  long  golden  hair,  which  hung  in  graceful  ringlets  dowQ 
her  back. 

One  day  when  Thor  was  absent  from  home,  Loki,  the  evil 
one,  happened  to  pass  by  the  place  where  Sif  was  sleeping, 
her  beautiful  hair  spread  out  upon  the  couch.  The  spirit  of 
mischief  seized  Loki,  and,  out  of  spite,  he  softly  crept  in  and 
cut  off  all  of  Sif  s  golden  locks. 

When  Sif  awakened,  she  was  overwhelmed  with  grief 
and  hid  herself,  so  that  Thor  might  not  see  her  without  her 
hair.  / 

/ 


-f. 


154  A   FIFTH   READER. 

When  Thor  came  home  he  called  for  Sif,  but  she  did  not 
answer ;  then  he  searched  the  palace  until  he  found  her. 
When  he  saw  what  had  been  done  to  her,  he  was  filled  with 
rage,  and  at  once  suspected  that  the  wicked  Loki  had  done 
the  mischief,  and  hastened  out  to  find  him.  Terrible  in  his 
anger,  with  long  strides  he  hurried  to  Asgard. 

When  Loki  heard  Thor  coming,  he  was  dreadfully  fright- 
ened, and  tried  to  escape  by  changing  himself  into  a  salmon 
and  leaping  into  the  water ;  but  Thor  saw  him,  and  changed 
himself  to  a  sea  gull,  and  seized  the  fish  in  his  beak.  Then 
both  were  changed  back  to  their  natural  shapes,  and  Thor 
had  the  wicked  Loki  in  his  hand. 

He  was  about  to  kill  him  in  his  rage ;  but  Loki  begged  for 
his  life,  and  said  that  if  it  were  spared  he  would  secure  from 
the  dwarfs  another  head  of  hair  more  beautiful  than  the 
former,  and  that  he  would  also  bring  Thor  a  better  hammer 
than  his  old  Mjollnir  (myeVnir),  which  Thor  had-  lost. 

On  this  promise  he  released  the  culprit,  and  Loki  hastened 
away  to  the  dark  caverns  underground  where  dwelt  the 
dwarfs.  Here  he  found  them  working  at  their  forges,  sur- 
rounded by  heaps  of  precious  metals  and  beautiful  gems. 
He  asked  a  dwarf  named  Davalin  to  make  not  only  hair  for 
Sif,  but  also  a  present  for  Odin  and  for  Frey,  who  were 
angry  with  him. 

The  dwarf  consented,  and  quickly  made  of  pure  gold  the 
hair  for  Sif ;  he  also  made  for  Odin  a  wonderful  spear  which 
should  never  miss  its  aim ;  and  for  Frey,  a  ship  which 
could  sail  in  air  as  well  as  in  water,  and  was  so  elastic 
that  although  it  was  large  enough  to  hold  the  gods  and 
all  their  steeds,  it  could  be  folded  up  and  put  in  one's 
pocket.  — 

When  Loki  saw  the  wonderful  things  that  the  dwarf  had 


TiHOR. 


165 


After  noted  German  Painting. 


THOR. 


"  Thor  rode  in  a  chariot  drawn  hi/  two  goats,  from  whose  hoofs  and  teeth 
flashed  sparks  ofjire.  .  .  .  He  had  three  very  precious  things  :  the  Jfrst  was 
his  mighty  hammer  .  .  . ;  the  second,  his  belt  of  strength  .  .  . ;  the  third,  his 
iron  gauntlet."    {Page  153.) 


166  A   FIFTH   READER. 

made,  he  declared  that  Davalin  was  the  most  clever  of  all 
smiths ;  but  Brock,  another  dwarf,  hearing  what  Loki  said, 
declared  that  his  brother  Sindri  could  make  three  things 
better  than  those  which  Davalin  had  made. 

Loki  immediately  challenged  him  to  do  it,  wagering  his 
head  against  Brock's  that  he  could  not.  Sindri  at  once 
went  to  work.  He  threw  some  gold  into  the  fire  and  went 
out,  leaving  Brock  to  blow  the  bellows.  Loki,  who  wanted 
him  to  fail,  changed  himself  to  a  gadfly  and  stung  Brock's 
hand. 

Although  it  hurt  him  cruelly.  Brock  did  not  let  go  ;  and 
when  Sindri  returned  he  drew  out  of  the  fire  an  enormous 
wild  boar  with  golden  bristles,  which  could  travel  through 
the  sky  with  wonderful  speed,  lighting  the  whole  world  as 
it  passed. 

Then  Sindri  threw  some  more  gold  into  the  fire,  and  left 
Brock  to  blow  the  bellows.  This  time  the  gadfly  stung 
him  on  the  cheek,  where  the  hurt  was  greater  than  before ; 
but  still  Brock  did  not  let  go,  and  when  Sindri  returned  he 
drew  out  of  the  flames  a  magic  riQg  from  which  eight  other 
rings  dropped. 

Then  he  cast  into  the  fire  a  lump  of  iron,  and  again  left 
Brock  to  blow  the  bellows.  This  time  Loki,  fearing  he 
would  lose  his  wager,  stung  Brock  upon  the  eye.  Brock 
quickly  raised  his  hand  and  struck  off  the  gadfly.  When 
Sindri  returned  he  drew  out  from  the  fire  a  wonderful 
hammer,  but  the  handle  was  a  little  too  short.  This  was 
because  Brock  had  dropped  the  bellows  an  instant  to  brush 
away  the  fly.  , 

Then  Loki  and  Brock  went  up  to  Asgard  to  present  their 
gifts  to  the  gods,  and  to  let  them  decide  who  had  done  the 
better  work,  Davalin  or  Sindri. 


THOR.  157 

Loki  gave  the  spear  to  Odin,  the  ship  to  Frey,  and  the 
golden  hair  to  Thor,  who  placed  it  upon  the  head  of  Sif, 
where  at  once  it  grew,  and  all  declared  that  it  was  more 
beautiful  than  that  which  she  had  lost. 

Then  Loki  brought  out  the  gifts  that  Brock  had  made. 
The  boar  with  golden  bristles  he  gave  to  Frey,  the  god  of 
the  sun,  that  he  might  ride  upon  it  through  the  sky  and 
thus  light  the  world. 

The  ring  Draupnir,  he  gave  to  Thor.  Thor  gave  it  to 
Odin,  who  ever  after  wore  it  on  his  arm,  and  from  it  other 
rings  laden  with  fruitfulness  dropped  upon  the  ea>th. 

The  hammer  Thor  kept  himself,  that  he  might  use  it  in 
his  battles  with  the  giants.  The  dwarfs,  by  magic,  had 
given  it  such  power  that  wherever  Thor  hurled  it,  it  came 
back  of  its  own  accord  to  his  hand.  It  was  so  wonderful 
that  all  the  gods  declared  that  Sindri's  work  was  better  than 
that  of  Davalin. 

Brock  then  demanded  Loki's  head,  which  he  had  wagered. 
The  gods  all  said  this  was  right;  but  Loki,  frightened,  ran 
away.  Thor,  however,  caught  him  and  brought  him  back. 
Loki  then  said  to  Brock,  "  You  may  have  my  head,  but  you 
must  not  touch  my  neck,  for  that  was  not  in  the  wager.'* 

So  Brock  was  cheated  out  of  his  wager ;  but  that  he  might 
punish  Loki,  he  borrowed  his  brother  Sindri's  awl,  and  sewed 
Loki's  lips  together,  for  Loki  talked  too  much.  Then  Brock 
went  back  to  his  place  among  the  dwarfs.  The  gods  all 
laughed  at  Loki  with  his  mouth  sewed  up  ;  but  after  a  time 
he  managed  to  cut  the  thread,  and  soon  was  talking  as  much 
as  ever. 

The  following  description  of  Thor  is  taken  from  the 
poet  Longfellow's  "  The  Saga  of  King  Olaf  "  :  — 


158  A   FIFTH    READER. 


I  am  the  God  Thor, 
I  am  the  War  God, 
I  am  the  Thunderer: 
Here  in  my  Northland, 
My  fastness  and  fortress, 
Reign  I  forever. 

Here  amid  icebergs 
Rule  I  the  nations. 
This  is  my  hammer, 
MjoUnir  the  mighty; 
Giants  and  sorcerers 
Cannot  withstand  it: 

These  are  the  gauntlets 
Wherewith  I  wield  it, 
And  hurl  it  afar  off; 
This  is  my  girdle; 
W^henever  I  brace  it, 
Strength  is  redoubled. 

The  light  thou  beholdest 
Stream  through  the  heavens, 
In  flashes  of  crimson, 
Is  but  my  red  beard 
Blown  by  the  night  wind. 
Affrighting  the  nations. 

Jove  is  my  brother; 
Mine  eyes  are  the  lightning; 
The  wheels  of  my  chariot 
Roll  in  the  thunder; 
The  blows  of  my  hammer 
Ring  in  the  earthquake. 


LOKI    AND    HIS    CHILDREN.  169 


XXXIV.     LOKI   AND    HIS   CHILDREN. 

LOKI  lived  in  Giant-land  many  years,  rejoicing  in  evil 
deeds.  There  were  born  to  him  three  children,  — 
wicked  Hela  (called  Smoky-locks),  ugly  Jormungand  with 
the  body  of  a  serpent,  and  fierce  Fenris  in  the  shape  of  a 
wolf. 

These  children  grew  very  strong  to  do  evil,  because  they 
were  always  busy  in  evil  ways,  even  in  their  play.  At  last 
Odin,  the  good  and  wise,  looked  down  from  Asgard  and 
saw  their  wicked  strength.  "  This  must  not  be,"  he  said, 
with  a  grave  face.  "  Loki's  children  will  fill  the  world  with 
evil  if  I  do  not  stay  them." 

So  Odin  hastened  to  Giant-land.  He  looked  upon  wicked 
Hela,  and  banished  her  to  the  under  world ,  of  darkness. 
The  ugly  serpent  he  threw  into  the  sea,  where  its  huge  body 
encircled  the  earth,  lashing  the  water  into  angry  foam.  But 
because  fierce  Fenris  was  so  strong,  Odin  spared  him. 
"  Perhaps  he  may  become  strong  to  do  good,  if  he  lives 
with  the  gods,"  Odin  said.     So  he  took  Fenris  to  Asgard.     '■ 

How  strange  to  hear  in  Asgard's  streets  the  footfall  of  a 
wolf !  Her  walls  had  echoed  the  stories  of  brave  deeds  and 
songs  of  heroes,  but  never  before  a  wolf's  howl.  Would  the 
strange  newcomer  learn  to  be  like  the  gods  ?  Would  he 
forget  evil,  and  use  his  strength  for  good  ? 

When  Odin  returned  with  Fenris  to  Asgard,  he  looked 
among  the  hero-gods  for  one  who  should  care  for  the  wolf- 
demon.  They  saw  his  question  in  his  face.  Brave  Tyr 
sprang  to  answer  it.  "  Father  Odin,"  he  cried,  "  I  delight  in 
strength;  and  I  care  not  if  my  task  is  hard  or  dull.  Let 
me  care  for  this  fierce  fellow." 


160  A   FIFTH   READER. 


So  Fenris  became  Tyr's  charge.  He  fed  him  with  sheep 
and  oxen,  and  took  him  with  him  upon  his  journeys.  But 
Fenris  did  not  learn  the  ways  of  the  gods.  His  face  grew 
more  savage  and  cruel ;  his  great  muscles  were  like  iron,  and 
his  teeth  stronger  than  tried  steel. 

One  night  as  Odin  sat  with  the  hero-gods  at  supper,  he 
heard  huge  Fenris  gnash  his  teeth,  impatient  to  be  fed. 
The  Allwise  looked  upon  the  beast,  and  his  grand  face 
became  sad.  When  the  supper  was  ended,  he  called  a 
council  of  the  gods. 

"  Sons,"  he  said,  "  I  have  looked  upon  Fenris's  face  and 
seen  his  evil  strength  ;  I  can  see  no  love  in  his  fierce  eyes. 
No  thought  of  good  has  tempered  his  fierce  voice  ;  no  feel- 
ing of  gentleness  has  been  born  in  his  cruel  heart.  But 
daily  his  wicked  strength  becomes  greater.  We  must  bind 
him,  or  he  will  destroy  us."  Gravely  the  heroes  listened. 
They  were  wise  and  strong.  They  had  overcome  giants  and 
leveled  mountains.     Was  evil  Fenris  more  than  these  ? 

"  Come  with  me,"  said  Thor  the  mighty,  breathing  joy- 
fully as  he  thought  of  the  work  before  him.  "  I  will  forge  a 
chain  that  will  hold  the  brute  fast." 

The  gods  followed  Thor  to  his  anvil,  and  watched  all  night 
as  he  dealt  mighty  blows  upon  the  molten  iron,  sending  the 
sparks  like  shooting  stars  into  the  darkness  of  the  night. 
When  morning  came  the  strong  chain  was  finished.  Who 
could  defy  its  massive  links?  Now  would  the  gods  be  safe 
from  the  fangs'  of  the  wolf.  ''  Come,  Fenris,"  called  Thor, 
"  you  are  strong  as  the  giant.  Let  us  see  you  break  this 
chain,  which  I  can  hardly  carry."  Fenris  was  willing 
enough.  They  bound  him  fast  with  the  heavy  fetters ;  but 
when  all  was  done,  he  stretched  his  huge  limbs  and  snapped 
the  massive  iron  as  if  it  were  a  silken  thread. 


LOKI    AND    HIS    CHILDREN.  161 

The  gods  spoke  no  word  as  the  wolf  walked  away. 
Gravely  they  turned  again  to  the  smithy.  Again  Thor 
toiled  all  night,  dealing  heavy  blows  and  strong  upon  the 
tempered  steel.  When  morning  came,  another  chain  lay 
finished  on  the  floor,  ten  times  stronger  than  the  first. 
Can  Fenris  escape  from  this  also  ? 

Yes,  as  the  spider's  web  jields  itself  to  the  touch  of  a 
child,  the  strong  links  gave  way  before  the  mighty  muscles 
of  the  wolf.  Sad  and  silent,  the  hero-gods  turned  away 
from  the  scene.  With  a  wicked  leer  Fenris  looked  after 
them ;  then  his  voice  rose  in  a  howl  of  fiendish  malice  and 
delight. 

That  night  a  dark  cloud  hung  over  the  fair  city  of  As- 
gard.  The  hero-gods  sat  at  their  council  table,  and  talked 
of  the  evil  strength  that  was  in  their  midst.  All  faces  Avere 
sad  and  stern ;  all  speeches  were  solemn  and  slow. 

"  Great  indeed  is  the  power  of  evil,"  said  Father  Odin, 
"but  good  is  greater.  Shall  a  beast  conquer  the  gods?" 
And  all  tlie  courage  and  might  of  the  gods  arose  within 
them  as  they  answered,  "  Never !  " 

They  watched  through  the  night  in  silence.  When  morn- 
ing came  Odin  said,  "  Sons,  we  will  call  to  our  aid  the  cun- 
ning dwarfs  ;  they  shall  help  us  to  bind  our  enemy.  Tyr 
shall  tell  them  of  our  need,  and  win  their  best  skill  in  our 
behalf." 

Tyr  needed  no  second  bidding.  Like  an  arrow  from  the 
bow  he  sped,  away  from  the  lofty  city  of  Asgard  to 
the  dark  one  where  the  dwarfs  dwelt.  There,  hidden  in 
the  earth,  they  wrought  with  their  tiny  hands  in  gold  and 
silver  and  precious  stones.  They  knew  the  secrets  of  the 
hills,  and  could  shape  cunning  and  beautiful  treasures  in 
their  skill. 

12— 5  R 


162  A   FIFTH   READER. 

They  heard  Tyr's  message,  and  gladly  lent  their  skill  to 
the  help  of  Father  Odin.  Three  nights  they  wrought  in 
the  darkness,  and  then  they  brought  to  Tyr  a  delicate  chain 
that  might  have  been  spun  from  cobweb. 

"  Here  is  thy  chain,  O  Tyr,"  they  said.  "  Fierce  Fenris 
cannot  escape  its  bands." 

Tjrr  hastened  to  Asgard  with  his  treasure.  Again  the 
heroes  met  and  called  Fenris  to  test  his  strength.  "We 
cannot  break  this  chain,"  they  said  to  him ;  "  will  you  try 
your  strength  again  ?  " 

The  brute  saw  the  delicate  strands,  and  feared.  Yet  he 
would  not  seem  to  be  afraid. 

"  If  one  of  you  will  place  his  hand  in  my  mouth,  that 
there  may  be  fair  play,  I  will  let  you  bind  me,"  he  said. 

The  heroes  looked  in  one  another's  faces.  Who  would 
do  what  the  wolf  asked  ? 

Brave  Tyr  stepped  forward,  and  placed  his  arm  in  the 
wolf's  mouth.  The  tiny  chain  was  bound  about  Fenris. 
He  rose  to  stretch  himself  and  shake  off  the  threads ;  but 
they  tightened  and  strengthened  about  him.  With  a  roar 
he  gnashed  his  great  teeth  together.  He  was  bound  fast. 
But  Tyr  stood  before  the  hero-gods  without  his  brave  right 
arm. 

Then  a  mighty  shout  was  heard  in  Asgard.  Again  and 
again  they  sang,  "  Glory  be  to  Tyr  forever  !  For  he  has 
given  his  brave  right  arm  to  save  the  gods  from  evil." 
The  shout  was  echoed  from  the  mountains,  and  it  rang 
through  the  caves  of  the  dwarfs.  "The  chain  of  the 
dwarfs  is  mighty,"  they  said;  "but  mightier  is  the  bi-ave 
heart  of  Tyr." 


<^ 


IDUN'S    APPLES.  163 


XXXV.     IDUN'S   APPLES. 

THE  gods  never  grew  old,  but  were  always  young  and 
strong  and  fair.  The  secret  of  their  youth  was  in 
Idun's  Apples,  which  this  goddess  kept  very  carefully  ia  a 
jar.  Every  morning  the  gods  ate  some  of  the  apples,  and  so 
lost  all  traces  of  age.  Hence  they  valued  these  apples  very 
highly  indeed. 

Once,  through  Loki's  mischief,  they  came  near  losing  the 
precious  fruit.  Three  of  the  gods,  Odin,  Loki,  and  Hoenir, 
were  one  day  traveling  together ;  their  journey  was  long,  and 
at  length  they  were  becoming  hungry,  when  they  reached  a 
peaceful  valley  where  herds  of  cattle  were  grazing. 

So  they  killed  an  ox  for  supper,  and  put  the  flesh  in  a 
great  pot  to  boil ;  but  boil  it  as  long  as  they  would,  they 
could  not  cook  it.  Every  time  they  took  up  the  lid  to  try 
the  meat,  they  found  it  as  raw  as  when  they  first  put  it  in. 
Astonished  at  this,  they  stood  wondering  what  to  do,  when 
they  heard  a  voice  calling  to  them  from  overhead ;  looking 
up,  they  saw  a  great  eagle  in  a  tree.  The  eagle  said,  "  If 
you  will  promise  to  give  me  all  the  meat  I  need  for  supper, 
your  ox  shall  speedily  be  cooked."  They  promised,  and 
soon  the  flesh  was  all  well  cooked. 

The  eagle  then  flew  down  to  get  his  share,  and  seized 
hungrily  a  leg  and  two  shoulders  of  the  ox.  Loki  was  so 
enraged  at  the  eagle's  greed  that  he  picked  up  a  pole  and 
began  to  beat  the  bird  upon  the  back,  when  a  strange  thing 
happened.  The  pole  having  ^ruck  the  eagle's  back  would 
not  come  away  from  it,  nor  could  Loki  let  go  his  hold. 

Then  the  eagle  flew  away,  dragging  poor  Loki  after  him 


164  A   FIFTH    READER. 

over  rocks  and  woods  and  mountains,  until  he  was  half 
dead.  Then  Loki  knew  that  it  was  not  an  eagle  at  all,  but 
a  wicked  giant  named  Thiassi,  who  had  dressed  himself  as 
an  eagle  that  he  might  capture  Loki. 

The  wily  god,  caught  by  a  trick  like  some  of  his  own, 
screamed  and  howled  and  begged  the  giant  to  let  him  go. 
Thiassi  said  that  he  would  never  let  him  go  unless  he 
promised  to  bring  Idun's  Apples  to  him.  Loki  readily 
promised,  —  it  was  always  easy  for  him  to  promise,  —  and, 
glad  to  be  free,  he  hurried  back  toward  Asgard. 

It  was  no  easy  task  to  get  the  apples,  for  I  dun  guarded 
them  with  great  care,  and  would  never  willingly  give  them 
up;  so  Loki  planned  to  get  them  by  a  trick. 

He  told  I  dun  that,  in  a  forest  not  far  from  her  palace,  he 
had  found  some  apples  growing  even  better  than  hers,  and 
persuaded  her  to  take  her  jar  of  apples  and  go  with  him  to 
the  forest,  to  compare  her  fruit  with  that  which  he  htid 
found. 

No  sooner  had  Idun  reached  the  forest  outside  the  walls, 
than  the  giant  Thiassi,  clad  in  liis  eagle's  feathers,  swooped 
down  upon  her  and  carried  her  off,  with  her  apples,  to  his 
abode. 

The  gods  not  having  these  precious  apples  to  eat  soon 
began  to  lose  their  youth,  and  to  look  old  and  wrinkled  and 
gray.  They  were  in  sore  distress  ;  so  they  gathered  in  their 
judgment  hall,  and  asked  one  another  who  had  last  seen 
Idun. 

When  they  learned  that  she  had  last  been  seen  going  out 
of  Asgard  with  Loki,  they  knew  that  he  had  caused  them 
all  this  evil.  So  Loki  was  seized  and  brought  into  tlieir 
midst ;  then  they  threatened  him  with  a  terrible  death  unless 
he  brought  back  Idun  and  her  apples. 


BALDUR.  165 


Loki,  greatly  frightened,  promised  to  do  as  he  was  bid,  if 
Freya,  the  goddess  of  fruitf uhiess,  would  lend  him  her  falcon 
dress.  Putting  this  on,  he  flew  away  to  Jotunheim.  There 
he  found  Idun,  who  was  very  unhappy  in  her  captivity,  and 
who  gladly  consented  to  go  back  with  him. 

Just  then  they  saw  Thiassi,  who  had  been  out  fishing, 
coming  home.  Loki  at  once  changed  Idun  to  a  nut,  seized 
her  in  his  claws,  and  flew  away  as  fast  as  he  could  toward 
Asgard.  Thiassi  saw  him  going,  and,  quickly  putting  on  his 
eagle  dress,  hurried  after  him. 

The  gods,  who  were  looking  anxiously  over  the  walls  of 
Asgard,  saw  a  falcon  flying  toward  them  with  an  eagle  in 
pursuit,  almost  overtaking  him.  Recognizing  the  falcon  as 
Loki,  and  the  eagle  as  Thiassi,  they  placed  firewood  on  the 
walls,  and  as  soon  as  Loki  had  glided  over,  lighted  the  fires. 
Thiassi  was  flying  so  fast  that  he  could  not  stop,  but  flew 
straight  into  the  fire.  His  wings  were  burned,  and  he  fell 
down  in  the  midst  of  Asgard,  where  the  gods  soon  put  an 
end  to  the  wicked  giant. 

Idun  was  eagerly  welcomed  home,  and  the  gods,  having 
again  their  precious  apples  to  eat,  soon  lost  all  traces  of  age 
and  became  once  more  young  and  strong  and  beautiful. 


XXXVI.     BALDUR. 

13  ALDUR  was  the  god  of  light.  He  was  the  fairest  and 
■*-^  best  beloved  of  all  the  gods.  His  face  was  always 
beaming  with  kindness  and  love.  Wherever  he  went  among 
gods  or  men,  all  felt  his  presence  and  began  to  feel  more 
kindly  toward  one  another  and  to  love  truth,  which  is  to 


166  A   FIFTH   READER. 

life  what  light  is  to  the  world.  All  beings  loved  him  but 
Loki.     Loki  hated  him  for  his  very  goodness. 

Baldur's  palace,  built  of  the  azure  of  the  sky  and  the  clear 
crystal  of  the  water,  was  the  home  of  peace  and  purity; 
nothing  evil  or  unclean  could  enter  it.  Here  he  lived  with 
his  lovely  wife  Nanna  in  perfect  happiness. 

But  one  day  the  gods  noticed  that  Baldur's  face  was  sad ; 
they  had  never  seen  it  so  before,  and  wondered  what  was 
the  cause.  When  asked,  he  told  them  that  he  was  troubled 
by  his  dreams,  and  feared  that  his  life  was  in  danger. 
Whereupon  Frigga,  his  mother,  traveled  through  the  world, 
and  made  everything  which  she  saw  swear  that  it  would 
not  injure  Baldur. 

She  visited  fire,  water,  iron,  and  all  the  metals,  diseases, 
birds,  beasts,  and  poisons,  and  they  all  gladly  swore  that 
they  would  not  hurt  Baldur. 

The  gods  believed  that  these  oaths  made  Baldur  safe, 
and  they  rejoiced  again ;  they  even  invented  a  game  to  con- 
vince Baldur  that  he  could  not  be  hurt.  They  persuaded 
him  to  stand  up  in  their  midst  while  they  threw  at  him  all 
their  weapons  and  every  hurtful  thing,  but  none  of  them 
injured  him. 

They  amused  themselves  in  this  way  for  many  days. 
Wicked  Loki  was  very  angi*y  when  he  heard  that  all  things 
had  sworn  not  to  injure  Baldur;  so  he  dressed  himself  up  as 
an  old  woman,  and  went  to  visit  Frigga,  Baldur's  mother. 

He  talked  with  her  about  the  wonderful  game  the  gods 
were  playing,  and  pretended  to  be  surprised  that  Baldur  was 
not  hurt ;  but  Frigga  told  him  about  the  promise  that  all 
things  had  made.  "  What!  have  all  things  promised  not  to 
injure  Baldur?"  asked  the  old  woman.  "Yes,"  said  Frigga, 
**  all  but  one  little  plant  which  grows  beyond  Valhalla,  and 


BALDUR. 


167 


After  noted  German  Painting. 


BALDUR. 


"  Baldur  was  the  yod  of  light.     He  was  the  fairest  and  best  beloved  of  all  the 
gods."     {Page  165.) 


168  A   FIFTH    READER. 

is  called  the  mistletoe,  which  is  so  little  that  I  did  not  think 
it  worth  while  to  ask  it." 

This  was  what  Loki  wanted  to  hear.  He  took  his  leave 
of  Frigga,  removed  his  old  woman's  dress,  and  hurried  to 
the  spot  beyond  Valhalla  where  the  mistletoe  grew. 

He  broke  off  a  twig,  and  by  magic  made  a  spear  of  it. 
This  he  took  with  him  to  Asgard,  where  he  found  the  gods 
throwing  their  weapons  at  Baldur. 

Now  Hodur,  one  of  the  gods,  was  blind.  When  Loki 
went  to  him  and  asked  him  why  he  threw  nothing  at 
Baldur,  "Because  I  am  blind,"  he  answered,  "and  can- 
not take  aim."  — "  But,"  said  Loki,  "  you  ought  to  throw 
something,  too,  in  honor  to  Baldur."  Hodur  replied,  "  I 
have  nothing  to  throw."  Loki  then  put  into  his  hand  his 
mistletoe  spear,  aimed  it  for  him,  and  told  him  to  hurl  it. 

Hodur,  not  suspecting  any  evil,  did  as  he  was  told. 
The  spear  flew  from  his  hand,  struck  the  beautiful  Baldur, 
pierced  him  through,  and  he  fell  dead. 

Great  indeed  was  the  grief  of  the  gods.  Their  best 
beloved  Baldur  had  fallen.  Never  had  such  sorrow  fallen 
upon  Asgard.  For  the  fii'st  time,  w^eeping  and  mourning 
were  heard  in  the  home  of  the  gods. 

After  they  had  recovered  from  the  first  shock  of  grief, 
they  tenderly  took  up  Baldur's  body  and  bore  it  to  the  sea- 
shore, where  they  placed  it  on  his  own  ship.  His  wife 
Nanna  was  so  grieved  by  his  death  that  her  heart  was 
broken,  and  she  died  too.  They  laid  her  beside  her  hus- 
band on  the  ship ;  this  they  burned  while  Tl^or  blessed  it 
with  his  hammer.  Thus  Baldur,  best  of  all  the  gods,  was 
lost  to  Asgard. 

After  the  funeral,  Odin  sent  a  messenger  to  Hela,  the 
giantess  who  ruled  in  the  regions  of  the  dead,  and  asked 


BALDUR.  169 


her  to  release  Baldur,  that  he  might  come  back  to  Asgard. 
Hela  said  she  would  do  so  if  every  living  thing  would  weep 
for  him ;  but  if  a  single  creature  refused  to  weep,  he  could 
not  go.  The  gods  then  sent  messengers  to  all  the  world, 
asking  every  creature  to  weep  for  Baldur. 

All  consented  but  one  old  hag,  who  declared  that  only 
with  dry  tears  would  she  weep  Baldur's  death.  But  this 
was  enough ;  Baldur  could  not  be  released.  The  messenger 
who  had  begged  this  old  hag  to  weep,  as  he  was  turning 
away,  saw  a  wicked  gleam  in  her  eye,  and  knew  then 
that  it  was  Loki,  who  had  taken  this  form  that  Baldur 
might  not  live  again.  This  the  messenger  reported  to 
the  gods. 

Then  were  all  the  dwellers  in  Asgard  filled  with  fury, 
and  they  vowed  that  Loki  should  be  punished.  This  time 
Loki  was  more  terribly  frightened  than  ever'  before.  He 
changed  his  form  many  times,  and  used  all  his  cunning  to 
escape  the  gods ;  but  it  was  of  no  avail. 

Thor  took  him  and  brought  him  into  the  judgment 
circle  ;  he  was  quickly  condemned,  and  as  a  punishment 
for  his  many  wicked  deeds,  especially  for  having  caused  the 
death  of  Baldur,  he  was  bound  in  a  cavern  underground 
upon  sharp  pointed  rocks  so  that  he  could  not  move  himself 
at  all. 

A  dreadful  time  came  to  the  gods  long  after  Baldur's 
death ;  they  had  war  with  the  frost  giants,  and  were  de- 
feated, many  of  them  were  killed,  and  Asgard  became 
gloomy  and  desolate.  This  is  called  the  twilight  of  the 
gods.  But  a  better  time  is  coming ;  the  giants  shall  be 
overthrown,  Baldur  shall  come  back,  leading  his  blind 
brother  Hodur,  and  all  shall  be  peace  and  light  and 
happiness. 


170  A   FIFTH    READER. 

XXXVII.     DEATH   OF   BALDUR. 

By  Matthew  Arnold. 

MATTHEW   ARNOLD,   the  great  English  poet,  has 
written  a  beautiful  poem  on  the  death  of  Baldur, 
from  which  the  following  verses  are  taken: 

So  on  the  floor  lay  Baldur  dead;  and  round 

Lay  thickly  strewn  swords,  axes,  darts,  and  spears, 

Which  all  the  Gods  in  sport  had  idly  thrown 

At  Baldur,  whom  no  weapon  pierced  or  clove  ;  ^     ' 

But  in  his  breast  stood  fixt  the  fatal  bough 

Of  mistletoe,  which  Loki  the  Accuser  gave 

To  Hodur,  and  unwitting  ^  Hodur  threw  — 

'Gainst  that  alone  had  Baldur's  life  no  charm. 

And  aU  the  Gods  and  all  the  Heroes  came, 
And  stood  round  Baldur  on  the  bloody  floor. 
Weeping  and  wailing ;  and  Valhalla  rang 
Up  to  its  golden  roof  with  sobs  and  cries ;     . 
And  on  the  tables  stood  the  untasted  meats, 
And  in  the  horns  ^  and  gold-rimm'd  sculls  the  wine. 
And  now  would  night  have  fall'n,  and  found  them  yet 
Wailing ;  but  otherwise  was  Odin's  will. 
And  thus  the  Father  of  the  ages  spaki  :  — 

"Enough  of  tears,  ye  Gods,  enough  of  wail! 
Not  to  lament  in  was  Valhalla  made. 

'  clove,  cut  in  two. 

2  un-wit'ting,  not  knowing ;  unthinking. 

*  horns,  drinking  cups  made  of  the  horns  of  animals. 


DEATH    OF    BALDUR.  171 

If  any  here  might  weep  for  Baldur's  death, 
I  most  might  weep,  his  father;  such  a  son 
I  lose  to-day,  so  bright,  so  loved  a  God. 
But  he  has  met  that  doom,  which  long  ago 
The  Nornies,^  Avlien  his  mother  bare  him,  spun, 
And  fate  set  seal,  that  so  his  end  must  be. 
Baldur  has  met  his  death,  and  ye  survive  ■— 
Weep  him  an  hour,  but  what  can  grief  avail? 
For  ye  yourselves,  ye  Gods,  shall  meet  your  doom. 
All  ye  who  hear  me,  and  inhabit  Heaven, 
And  I  too,  Odin  too,  the  Lord  of  all. 


"  But  ours  we  shall  not  meet,  when  tliat  day  comes, 

With  women's  tears,  and  weak  complaining  cries  — 

Why  should  we  meet  another's  portion  so?    ' 

Rather  it  fits  you,  having  wept  your  hour, 

With  cold  dry  eyes,  and  hearts  composed  ^  and  stern, 

To  live,  as  erst,^  your  daily  life  in  Heaven. 

By  me  shall  vengeance  on  the  murderer  Loki, 

The  foe,  the  accuser,  whom,  though   Gods,  we  hate, 

Be  strictly  cared  for,  in  the  appointed  day. 

Meanwhile  to-morrow  when  the  morning  dawns, 

Bring  wood  to  the  seashore  to  Baldur's  ship, 

And  on  the  deck  build  high  a  funeral  pile. 

And  on  the  top  lay  Baldur's  corpse,  and  put 

Fire  to  the  wood,  and  send  him  out  to  sea 

To  burn;  for  that  is  what  the  dead  desire." 

1  Nor'nies,  Fates;  beings  who  determined  and  predicted  what  was 
to  happen.  In  Norse  myths,  as  in  those  of  Greece,  the  Fates  were 
described  as  spinning  the  thread  of  life  for  other  beings. 

2  com-posed',  quieted.  8  grst,  formerly. 


172  A   FIFTH    READER. 

So  spake  the  King  of  Gods,  and  straightway  rose. 
And  mounted  his  horse  Sleipnir,  whom  he  rode; 
And  from  the  hall  of  Heaven  he  rode  away 
To  Lidskialf,  and  sate  upon  his  throne, 
The  mount,  from  whence  his  eye  surveys  the  world. 
And  far  from  Heaven  he  turn'd  his  shining  orbs^ 
To  look  on  Midgard,  and  the  earth,  and  men. 
And  on  the  conjuring  ^  Lapps  he  bent  his  gaze, 
Whom  antler'd  reindeer  pull  over  the  snow; 
And  on  the  Finns,  the  gentlest  of  mankind, 
Fair  men,  who  live  in  holes  under  the  ground; 
Nor  did  he  look  once  more  to  Ida's  plain, 
Nor  towards  Valhalla  and  the  sorrowing  Gods; 
For  well  he  knew  the  Gods  would  heed  his  word, 
And  cease  to  mourn,  and  think  of  Baldur's  pyre.^ 

The  Gods  held  talk  together,  group'd  in  knots, 
Round  Baldur's  corpse,  which  they  had  hither  borne ; 

And  straight  the  Father  of  the  ages  said:  — 
''Ye  Gods,  these  terms  may  keep  another  day. 
But  now,  put  on  your  arms,  and  mount  your  steeds, 
And  in  procession  all  come  near,  and  weep 
Baldur ;  for  that  is  what  the  dead  desire. 
When  ye  enough  have  wept,  then  build  a  pile 
Of  the  heap'd  wood,  and  burn  his  corpse  with  lire 
Out  of  our  sight;  that  we  may  turn  from  grief, 
And  lead,  as  erst,  our  daily  life  in  Heaven." 

^  orbs,  round  bodies,  here  used  for  the  eyes. 
2  con'jur-ing,  using  magic. 

*  pyre,  a  funeral  pile.     The  ancients  used  to  burn   the  bodies  of 
their  dead  upon  such  piles,  instead  of  burying  them. 


DEATH    OF    BALDUR.  178 

He  spoke,  and  the  Gods  arm'd ;    and  Odin  donn'd  ^ 
His  dazzling  corselet  ^  and  his  helm^  of  gold, 
And  led  the  way  on  Sleipnir ;  and  the  rest 
Follow'd,  in  tears,  their  father  and  their  king. 
And  thrice  in  arms,  round  the  dead  they  rode. 
Weeping;  the  sands  were  wetted,  and  their  arms. 
With  their  thick-falling  tears  —  so  good  a  friend 
They  mourn'd  that  day,  so  bright,  so  loved  a  God. 
And  Odin  came  and  laid  his  kingly  hands 
On  Baldur's  breast,  and  thus  began  the  wail :  — 

"  Farewell,  O  Baldur,  bright  and  loved,  my  son  ! 
In  that  great  day,  the  twilight  of  the  Gods, 
When  Muspel's  children  shall  beleaguer'^  Heaven, 
Then  we  shall  miss  thy  counsel  and  thy  arm." 

Thou  camest  near  the  next,  O  warrior  Thor ! 
Shouldering  thy  hammer,  in  thy  chariot  drawn. 
Swaying  ^  the  long-hair'd  goats  with  silver'd  rein ; 
And  over  Baldur's  corpse  these  words  didst  say :  — 

"  Brother,  thou  dwellest  in  the  darksome  land, 
And  talkest  with  the  feeble  tribes  of  ghosts, 
Now,  and  I  know  not  how  they  prize  thee  there  — 
But  here,  I  know,  thou  wilt  be  miss'd  and  mourn'd. 
For  haughty '  spirits  and  high  wraths  are  rife 
Among  the  Gods  and  Heroes  here  in  Heaven, 
As  among  those  whose  joy  and  work  is  war; 
And  daily  strifes  arise,  and  angry  words. 
But  from  thy  lips,  O  Baldur,  night   or  day, 

'  donn'd,  pjit  on. 

2  corse'let,  armor  to  protect  the  body. 

3  helm,  helmet;  armor  for  the  head. 
*  be-lea'guer,  besiege. 

''  sway'iug,  guiding ;  controlling. 


174  A   FIFTH    READER. 

Heard  no  one  ever  an  injurious  word 

To  God  or  Hero,  but  thou  keptest  back 

The  othere,  laboring  to  compose  their  brawls. 

Be  ye  then  kind,  as  Baldur  too  was  kind  I 

For  we  lose  him,  who  smoothed  all  strife  in  Heaven." 

But  now  the  sun  had  pass'd  the  height  of  Heaven, 
And  soon  had  all  that  day  been  spent  in  wail; 
But  then  the  Father  of  the  ages  said :  — 

"Ye  Gods,  there  well  may  be  too  much  of  wail! 
Bring  now  the  gather'd  wood  to  Baldur's  ship; 
Heap  on  the  deck  the  logs,  and  build  the  pyre." 

But  when  the  Gods  and  Heroes   heard,  they  brought 
The  wood  to  Baldur's  ship,  and  built  a  pile, 
Full  the  deck's  breadth,  arid  lofty ;  then  the  corpse 
Of  Baldur  on  the  highest  top  they  laid, 
With  Nanna  on  his  right,  aiid  on  his  left 
Hodur,  his  brother  whom  his  own  hand  slew. 

And  they  set  jars  of  wine  and  oil  to  lean 
Against  the  bodies,  and  stuck  torches  near, 
Splinters  of  pine- wood,  soak'd  with  turpentine ; 
And  brought  his  arms,  and  gold,  and  all  his  stuff, 
And  slew  the  dogs  who  at  his  table  fed. 
And  his  horse,  Baldur's  horse,  whom  most  he  loved, 
And  threw  them  on  the  pyre,  and  Odin  threw 
A  last  choice  gift  thereon,  his  golden  ring. 
The  mast  they  fixed,  and  hoisted  up  the  sails, 
Then  they  put  fire  to  the  wood;  and  Thor 
Set  his  stout  shoulder  hard  against  the  stem 
To  push  the  shij)  through  the  thick  sand ;  —  sparks  flew 
From  the  deep  trench  she  plowed,  so  strong  a  God 


DEATH    OF    BALDUR.  175 

Furrow'd  it;  and  the  water  gurgled  in. 

And  the  ship  floated  on  the  waves,  and  rock'd. 

But  in  the  hills  a  strong  east  wind  arose, 
And  came  down  moaning  to  the  sea ;  first  squalls 
Ran  black  o'er  the  sea's  face,  then  steady  rush'd 
The  breeze,  and  fiU'd  the  sails,  and  blew  the  fire. 
And,  wreathed  in  smoke,  the  ship  stood  out  to  sea. 
Soon  with  a  roaring  rose  the  mighty  fire. 
And  the  pile  crackled;   and  between  the  logs 
Sharp  quivering  tongues  of  flame  shot  out,  and  leapt, 
Curling  and  darting,  higher,  until  they  lick'd 
The  summit  of  the  pile,  the  dead,  the  mast. 
And  ate  the  shriveling  sails ;  but  still  the  ship 
Drove  on,  ablaze  above  her  hull  with  fire. 
And  the  Gods  stood  upon  the  beach,  and  gazed; 
And  while  they  gazed,  the  sun  went  lurid  down 
Into  the  smoke-wrapt  sea,  and  night  came  on. 

Then  the  wind  fell,  with  night,  and  there  was  calm; 
But  through  the  dark  they  watch'd  the  burning  ship 
Still  carried  o'er  the  distant  waters  on. 
Farther  and  farther,  like  an  eye  of  fire. 
And  long,  in  the  far  dark,  blazed  Baldur's  pile ; 
But  fainter,  as  the  stars  rose  high,  it  flared  ; 
The  bodies  were  consumed,  ash  choked  the  pile. 
And  as,  in  a  decaying  winter-fire, 
A  charr'd  log,  falling,  makes  a  shower  of  sparks  — 
So  with  a  shower  of  sparks  the  pile  fell  in. 
Reddening  1|he  sea  around;  and  all  was  dark. 

But  the  Gods  went  by  starlight  up  the  shore 
To  Asgard,  and  sate  down  in  Odin's  liall 


176  A   FIFTH   READER. 

At  table,  and  the  funeral  feast  began. 

All  night  they  ate  the  boar  Serimner's  flesh, 

And  from  their  horns,  with  silver  rimm'd,  drank  mead, 

Silent,  and  waited  for  the  sacred  morn. 


XXXVIII.     THE   SKELETON   IN   ARMOR.* 

By  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow. 

"  QPEAK  !  speak  I  thou  fearful  guest  I 

*--^  Who,  with  thy  hollow  breast 
Still  in  rude  armor  drest,  : 

Comest  to  daunt  me!  *    "•'  ' 

Wrapt  not  in  Eastern  balms,  .,   "' ' 

But  with  thy  fleshless  palms 
Stretched,  as  if  asking  alms. 

Why  dost  thou  haunt  me  ?  '* 

Then,  from  those  cavernous  ^  eyes 
Pale  flashes  seemed  to  rise. 
As  when  the  Northern  skies 
Gleam  in  December; 

1  This  poem  refers  to  the  supposed  visit  of  people  from  Norway  to 
this  country  long  before  the  voyage  of  Columbus.  An  old  round  tower 
was  found  standing  at  Newport,  which  was  not  such  as  any  modern  vis- 
itors would  have  built,  and  many  think  that  this  was  erected  by  these 
early  Norse  visitors.  Some  laborers,  digging  at  Fall  River,  Massachu- 
setts, came  upon  the  skeleton  of  a  warrior  in  a  strange  armor,  buried  in 
a  sitting  posture.  Those  who  saw  this  skeleton  thought  that  he  was  one 
of  these  same  Norse  wanderers.  The  poet  has  used  these  discoveries 
as  the  basis  for  his  poem,  in  which  he  weaves  a  story  of  the  buried 
Norseman. 

^  cav'ern-ou8,  hollow. 


THE    SKELETON    IN    ARMOR.  177 

And,  like  the  water's  flow 
Under  December's  snow, 
Came  a  dull  voice  of  w£ia 

From  the  heart's  chamber. 

"I  was  a  Viking^  old! 
My  deeds,  though  manifolds. 
No  SkaldJ  in  song  has  told, 

No  Saga,^  taught  thee  ! 
Take  heed,  that  in  thy  verse 
Thou  dost  the  tale  rehearse^. 
Else  dread  a  dead  man's  curse ; 

For  this  I  sought  thee. 

"Far  in  the  Northern  Land, 
By  the  wild  Baltic's  strand, 
I,  with  my  childish  hand. 

Tamed  the  gerfalcon ;  ^ 
And,  with  my  skates  fast-bojinxi. 
Skimmed  the  halWrozfin  Sound, 
That  the  poor  whimpering  hound 
Trembled  to  walk  on. 

"Oft  to  his  frozen  lair 
Tracked  I  the  grisly  bear, 
While  from  my  path  the  haj:e 
Fled  like  a  shadow ; 

*  Vi'king,  a  Norse  sea-rover  or  pirate.  These  Vikings  were  doubtless 
remarkable  sailors,  bold  and  courageous,  and  all  dwellers  of  the  coast-land 
in  Northern  Europe  dreaded  them. 

2  Skald,  a  bard  or  poet  of  the  ancient  Northmen.  These  bards 
used  to  sing  especially  the  tales  of  war  and  the  adventures  of  heroes. 
Such  bards  were  found  among  all  ancient  peoples. 

8  Sa'ga,  a  Norse  tale  or  tradition. 

4  ger'fal-con  (jer'faw-k'n),  a  bird  trained  to  hunt  other  birds. 

l.", — 5r 


178 


A    FIFTH    READER. 


Oft  through  the  forest  dark 
Followed  the  werewolf's  *  bark, 
Until  the  soaring,  lark 

Sang  from  the  meadow. 


"  But  when  I  older  grew, 
Joining  a  corsaix's  crew, 
•    O'er  the  dark  sea  I  flew 

With  the  marauders.^ 
Wild  was  the  life  we  led; 
Many  the  souls  that  sged. 
Many  the  hearts  that  bled, 

By  our  stern  orders. 

"  Many  a  wassail-bout  ^ 
Wore  the  long  Winter  out; 
Often  our  midnight  shout 
Set  the  cocks  crowing, 

1  were'wolf,  a  person  transformed  into  a  ^Tolf.     Belief  in  were- 
wolves was  formerly  common.  2  ma-raud'ers,  robbers. 
'*  was'sail-bout,  a  carousal,  or  driukiug  time. 


THE    SKELETON    IN    ARMOR.  179 

As  we  the  Berserk's^  tale 
Measured  in  cups  of_a]£^ 
Draining  the  oaken  pail, 
Filled  to  o'erfloydttg? — 

"  Once  as  I  told  in  glgfi^ 
Tales  of  the  stormy  sea, 
Soft  eyes  did  gazo-on  me, 

Burning  yet  tender ; 
And  as  the  white  stars  shine 
On  the  dark  Norway  pine. 
On  that  dark  heart  of  mine 

Fell  their  soft  splendor. 

"I  wooed  the  blue-eyed  maid^ 
Yielding,  yet  half  afraid, 
And  in  the  forest's  shade 

Our  vows  we  plightei 
Under  its  loosenetl  vest. 
Fluttered  her  little  breast. 
Like  birds  within  their  nest 

By  the  liaiiik  frighted. 

"Bright  in  her  father's  hall 
Shields  gleamed  upon  the  wall, 
Loud  sang  the  minstrels  all, 

Ch^Liiting  his  glory; 
When  of  old  Hildebrand 
I  asked  his  daughter's  hand, 
Mttfc^^  did -the  minstrels  stand 

To  hear  my  story. 

^  Ber''serk,  a  half-crazed,  brave  warrior  among  the  Norsemen. 


180  A   FIFTH   READER. 

"While  the  brown  ale  he  quaffed, 
Loud  then  the  champion  laughed, 
And  as  the  wind-gusts  waft 

The  sea-foam  brightly, 
So  the  loud  laugh  of  scorn, 
Out  of  those  lips  unshorn. 
From  the  deep  drinking  horn 

Blew  the  foam  lightly. 

"She  was  a  Prince's  child, 

I  but  a  Viking  wild. 

And  though  she  blushed  and  smiled, 

1  was  discarded! 
Should  not  the  dove  so  white 
Follow  the  sea  mew's  flight, 
Why  did  they  leave  that  night 

Her  nest  unguarded? 

"  Scarce  had  I  put  to  sea, 
Bearing  the  maid  with  me, — 
Fairest  of  all  was  she 

Among  the  Norsemen  !  — 
When  on  the  white  sea  strand. 
Waving  his  armed  hand. 
Saw  we  old  Hildebrand, 

With  twenty  horsemen. 

"Then  launched  they  to  the  blast, 
Bent  like  a  reed  each  mast. 
Yet  we  were  gaining  fast 

When  the  wind  failed  us; 


THE    SKELETON    IN    ARMOR.  181 

And  with  a  sudden  flaw 
Came  round  the  gusty  Skaw,^ 
So  that  our  foe  we  saw 
Laugh  as  he  hailed  us. 

"And  as  to  catch  the  gale 

Round  veered  the  flapping  sail, 

'  Death  ! '    was  the  helmsman's  hail, 

'  Death  without  quarter  ! ' 
Mid-ships  with  iron  keel 
Struck  we  her  ribs  of  steel; 
Down  her  black  hulk  did  reel 

Through  the  black  water! 

"As  with  his  wings  aslant, 
Sails  the  fierce  cormorant,^ 
Seeking  some  rocky  haunt. 

With  his  prey  laden,  — 
So  toward  the  open  main, 
Beating  to  sea  again. 
Through  the  wild  hurricane, 

Bore  I  the  maiden. 

"  Three  weeks  we  westward  bore, 
And  when  the  storm  was  o'er. 
Cloud-like  we  saw  the  shore 

Stretching  to  leeward ; 
There  for  my  lady's  bower 
Built  I  the  lofty  tower, 
Which,  to  this  very  hour, 

Stands  looking  seaward'. 

i  Ska-w,  a  promontory. 

2  cor 'mo-rant,  a  gluttonous  sea-bird. 


182 


A   FIFTH    READER. 


^v^ 


T-t:^ 


^•^ 


"Tliere  liveld  we  many  ye^rs; 
Time  dried  the  maiden's  tears; 
She  had  forgot  her  fears, 
She  was  a  mother  \ 


OLD    STONE    T0WP:R,    NEWPORT. 


Death  closed  her  niilil  blue  eyes. 
Under  that  tower  she  lies ; 
Ne'er  shall  the  sun  arise 
On  such  another ! 


THE    WHITE    CZAR.  183 


"Still  grew  my  bosom  then, 
Still  as  a  stagnant  fenj 
Hateful  to  me  were  men, 

The  sunlight  hateful ! 
In  the  vast  forest  here, 
Clad  in  my  warlike  gear^. 
Fell  I  upon  my  spear, 

Oh,  death  was  grateful ! 

"Thuv-se^med  with  many  seal's, 
Bursting  these  prison  bars. 
Up  to  its  native  stars 

My  soul  ascended ! 
There  from  the  flowing  bowl 
Deep  drinks  the  warrior's  soul,    - 
Skoal !^   to  the  Northland!    skoal!'' 

Thus  the  tale  ended. 


XXXIX.     THE   WHITE   CZAR.^ 

By  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow. 

DOST  thou  see  on  the  rampart's  height 
That  wreath  of  mist,  in  the  light 
Of  the  midnight  moon?     Oh,  hist! 
It  is  not  a  wreath  of  mist; 
It  is  the  Czar,  the  White  Czar, 
Batyushka!^     Gosudar!* 

^  skoal,  hail !  an  exclamation  of  good  wishes. 

2  The  White  Czar  Avas  Peter  the  Great,  the  first  great  emperor  of 
Russia. 

*  Bat-yuah'ka,  Father  dear ;  a  favorite  name  of  llie  Russians  for 
their  emperor. 

^  Gos'u-dar,  Sovereign ;  a  title  applied  to  the  Czar. 


184  A   FIFTH   READER. 

He  has  heard,  among  the  dead, 
The  artillery  roll  o'erhead; 
The  drums  and  the  tramp  of  feet 
Of  his  soldiery  in  the  street; 
He  is  awake !   the  White  Czar, 
Batynshka !     Gosudar ! 

He  has  heard  in  the  grave  the  cries 
Of  his  people  :    "  Awake  !    arise  I  " 
He  has  rent  the  gold  brocade 
Whereof  his  shroud  was  made; 
He  is  risen !   the  White  Czar, 
Batyushka !     Gosudar ! 

From  the  Volga  and  the  Don 
He  has  led  his  armies  on. 
Over  river  and  morass. 
Over  desert  and  mountain  pass ; 
The  Czar,  the  Orthodox  Czar, 
Batyushka !     Gosudar ! 

He  looks  from  the  mountain  chain 
Toward  the  seas  that  cleave  in  twain 
The  continents;   his  hand 
Points  southward  o'er  the  land 
•    Of  Roumili !  ^   O  Czar, 

Batyushka !     Gosudar ! 

And  the  words  break  from  his  lips: 
*'I  am  the  builder  of  ships, 
And  my  ships  shall  sail  these. s^a^ 
To  the  PiUars  of  Hercules !  2 

'  Rou-mi'li  (Ru-me'le),  Roumelia. 

2  Pillara  of  Hercules,  the  Rocks  of  Gibraltar,  so  called  because 
Hercules  is  said  to  have  torn  them  apart,  thus  making  the  strait. 


THE  OLD  CLOCK  ON  THE  STAIRS.      185 

I  say  it;    the  White  Czar, 
Batyushka !     Gosudar ! 

"The  Bosphorus  shall  be  free; 
It  shall  make  room  for  me ; 
And  the  gates  of  its  water-streets 
Be  unbarred  before  my  fleets. 
I  say  it ;    the  White  Czar, 
Batyushka !     Gosudar ! 

"And  the  Christian  shall  no  more 
Be  crushed  as  heretofore, 
Beneath  thine  iron  rule, 

0  Sultan  of  Istamboul !  ^ 

1  say  it ;    the  White  Czar, 

Batyushka !     Gosudar  !  " 


XL.  THE  OLD  CLOCK  ON  THE  STAIRS. 

By  IIexry  Wadsworth  Loxgfellow. 

SOMEWHAT  back  from  the  village  street 
Stands  the  old-fashioned  country  seat. 
Across  its  antique  portico 
Tall  poplar  trees  their  shadows  throw; 
And  from  its  station  in  the  hall 
An  ancient  timepiece  says  to  all,  — • 
"  Forever  —  never ! 
Never  —  forever! " 

^  Is-tam-bour,  the  Turkish  name  for  Constantinople. 


186  A    FIFTH    READER. 


Half-way  up  the  stairs  it  stands, 
And  points  and  beckons  with  its  hands 
From  its  case  of  mas§ix£  oak, 
Like  a  monk,  who,  under  his  cloak, 
Crosses  himself,  and  sighs,  alas ! 
With  sorrowful  voice  to  all  who  pass,  — 
"  Forever  —  never  I 
Never  —  forever !  " 

By  day  its  voice  is  low  and  light; 
But  in  the  silent  dead  of  night, 
Distinot  as  a  passing  footstep's  fall, 
It  echoes  along  the  vacant  hall. 
Along  the  ceiling,  along  the  floor. 
And  seems  to  say  at  each  chamber  door, — 
"  Forever  —  never ! 
Never  —  forever !  " 

Through  days  of  sorrow  and  of  mirth. 
Through  days  of  death  and  days  of  birth, 
Through  every  swift  vicissitude 
Of   changeful  time,  unchanged  it  has  stood, 
And  as  if,  like  God,  it  all  things  saw. 
It  calmly  repeats  these  words  of  awe,  — 
"  Forever  —  never  ! 
Never  —  forever !  " 

r 

In  that  mansion  used  to  be 
Free-hearted  Hospitality^; 
II is  great  fires  up  the  chimney  roared, 
The  stranger  feasted  at  liis  board; 


THE    OLD    CLOCK    ON    THE    STAIRS. 


187 


M.  GOODHAK. 


THE    OLD    CLOCK    ON    THE    STAIRS. 


188  A   FIFTH    READER. 

But,  like  the  skeleton  at  the  feast, 
That  warning  timepiece  never  ceased, — 
"  Forever  —  never ! 
Never  —  forever!" 

There  groups  of  merry  children  played; 
There  youths  and  maidens,  dreaming,  strayed ; 
O  precious  hours !    O  golden  prime, 
And  affluence  of  love  and  time  ! 
Even  as  a  miser  counts  his  gold. 
These  houi'^  the  ancient  timepiece  told,  — 
"  Forever  —  never ! 
Never  —  forever !  " 

From  that  chamber,  clothed  in  white. 
The  bride  came  forth  on  her  wedding  night; 
There  in  that  silent  room  below. 
The  dead  lay  in  its  shroud  of  snow; 
And  in  the  hush  that  followed  the  prayer 
Was  heard  the  old  clock  on  the  stair, — 
"  Forever  —  never ! 
Never  —  forever ! " 

All  are  scattered  now  and  fled: 
Some  are  married,  some  are  dead; 
And  when  I  ask,  with  throbs  of  pain, 
"Ah!  when  shall  they  alfmeet  again?" 
As  in  the  days  long  since  gone  by, 
That  ancient  timepiece  makes  reply, — 
**  Forever  —  never ! 
Never  —  forever !  " 


THE    NORSEMEN.  189 

Never  here,  forever  there, 

Where  all  parting,  pain,  and  care, 

And  death,  and  time  shall  disappear, — 

Forever  there,  but  never  here ! 

The  horologe  ^  of  Eternity 

Sayeth  this  incessantly,^  — 

"  Forever  —  never  I 
Never  —  forever  I  " 


XLI.     THE   NORSEMEN.' 

By  John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

GIFT  from  the  cold  and  silent  Past  I 
A  relic  to  the  present  cast, 
Left  on  the  ever-changing  strand 
Of  shifting  and  unstable  sand. 
Which  wastes  beneath  the  steady  chime 
And  beating  of  the  waves  of  Time! 
Who  from  its  bed  of  primal  rock 
First  wrenched  thy  dark,  unshapely  block? 
Whose  hand,  of  curious  skill  untaught. 
Thy  rude  and  savage  outline  wrought? 

The  waters  of  my  native  stream 

Are  glancing  in  the  sun's  warm  beam: 

^  hor'o-loge,  a  timepiece. 

'  in-ces'sant-ly,  ceaselessly. 

8  Nearly  one  hundred  years  ago  a  fragment  of  a  rough  statue  of 
gray  stone  was  found  on  the  bank  of  the  Merrimac  River.  Many  sup- 
posed that  it,  like  the  Skeleton  in  Armor  and  the  Round  Tower  at 
Newport,  was  left  by  the  early  Norse  visitors  to  this  country.  The 
poet  Whittier  has  made  this  statue  the  basis  of  his  poem. 


190  A    FIFTH    READER. 


From  sail-urged  keel  and  flashing  oar 
The  circles  widen  to  it«  shore ; 
And  cultured  field  and  peopled  town 
Slope  to  its  willowed  margin  down. 
Yet,  while  this  morning  breeze  is  bringing 
The  home-life  sound  of  school-bells  ringing. 
And  rolling  wheel,  and  rapid  jar 
Of  the  fire-winged  and  steedless  car. 
And  voices  from  the  wayside  near 
Come  quick  and  blended  on  my  ear, 
A  spell  is  in  this  old  gray  stone,  — 
My  thoughts  are  with  the  Past  alone  I 


NORSE    VESSELS. 


A  change !  —  The  steepled  town  no  more 
Stretches  along  the  sail-thronged  shore; 
Like  palace-domes  in  sunset's  cloud, 
Fade  sun-gilt  spire  and  mansion  proud: 
Spectrally  rising  where  they  stood, 
I  see  the  old,  primeval  wood: 
Dark,  shadow-like,  on  either  hand 
I  see  its  solemn  waste  expand: 


THE    NORSEMEN.  191 


It  climbs  the  green  and  cultured  hill, 
It  arches  o'er  the  valley's  rill; 
And  leans  from  cliff  and  crag  to  throw- 
Its  wild  arms  o'er  the  streams  below. 
Unchanged,  alone,  the  same  bright  river 
Flows  on,  as  it  will  flow  forever ! 
I  listen,  and  I  hear  the  low 
Soft  ripple  where  its  waters  go ; 
I  hear  behind  the  panther's  cry, 
The  wild-bird's  scream  goes  thrilling  by, 
And  shyly  on  the  river's  brink 
The  deer  is  stooping  dow^n  to  drink. 

But  hark !  —  from  w^ood  and  rock  flung  back, 
What  sound  comes  up  the  Merrimac? 
What  sea-worn  barks  are  those  which  throw 
The  light  spray  from  each  rushing  prow  ? 
Have  they  not  in  the  North  Sea's  blast 
Bowed  to  the  waves  the  straining  mast? 
Their  frozen  sails  the  low,  pale  sun 
Of  Thule's  ^  night  has  shone  upon ; 
Flapped  by  the  sea-wind's  gusty  sweep 
Round  icy  drift,  and  headland  steep. 
Wild  Jutland's  ^  wives  and  Lochlin's  daughters 
Have  watched  them  fading  o'er  the  waters, 
Lessening  through  driving  mist  and  spray. 
Like  white-winged  sea-birds  on  their  way ! 

1  Thu'le,  the  supposed  northernmost  point  of  the  British  Isles,  which 
formerly  was  often  spoken  of  as  the  end  of  the  world. 

2  Jutland,  a  peninsula  of  Denmark.  Denmark,  Norway,  and  Sweden 
are  really  the  same  land,  and  the  people  living  there  on  the  two  penin- 
.sulas  are  very  closely  related. 


192  A   FIFTH    READER. 

Onward  they  glide,  —  and  now  I  view 
Their  iron-armed  and  stalwart  crew ; 
Joy  glistens  in  each  wild  blue  eye, 
Turned  to  green  earth  and  summer  sky; 
Each  broad,  seamed  breast  has  cast  aside 
Its  cumbering  vest  of  shaggy  hide; 
Bared  to  the  sun  and  soft  warm  air, 
Streams  back  the  Norsemen's  yellow  hair. 
I  see  the  gleam  of  ax  and  spear. 
The  sound  of  smitten  shields  I  hear, 
Keeping  a  harsh  and  fitting  time 
To  Saga's  chant,  and  Runic  ^  rhyme ; 
Such  lays  as  Zetland's  Skald  has  sung, 
His  gray  and  naked  isles  among; 
Or  muttered  low  at  midnight  hour 
Round  Odin's  mossy  stone  of  power. 
The  wolf  beneath  the  Arctic  moon 
Has  answered  to  that  startling  rune; 
The  Gael  2  has  heard  its  stormy  swell. 
The  light  Frank ^  knows  its  summons  well; 
lona's  *  ■  sable-stoled  ^  Culdee  ^ 
Has  heard  it  sounding  o'er  the  sea, 
And  swept,   vvith  hoary  beard  and  hair. 
His  altar's  foot  in  trembling  prayer ! 

^  Ru'nic,  belonging  to  runes.  Runes  were  the  characters  in  which 
the  Norse  wrote  their  poems,  and  the  word  is  also  used  for  the  poems 
themselves. 

2  Gael  (gale),  the  early  inhabitants  of  the  Scottish  Highlands. 

*  Frank,  an  early  tribe  of  western  Europe,  from  which  the  French 
have  derived  their  name. 

*  I-o'na,  an  island  near  the  coast  of  Scotland. 
;  ^  sable-stoled,  black-robed. 

*  Cul-dee',  an  ancient  priest  of  Scotland. 


THE    NORSEMEN. 


193 


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194  A   FIFTH    READER. 

'T  is  past,  —  the  Vildering  vision  dies 
In  darkness  on  my  dreaming  eyes  ! 
The  forest  vanishes  in  air, — 
Hill-slope  and  vale  lie  starkly  bare : 
I  hear  the  common  tread  of  men, 
And  hum  of  work-day  life  again : 
The  mystic  relic  seems  alone 
A  broken  mass  of  common  stone ; 
And  if  it  be  the  chiseled  limb 
Of  Berserker  or  idol  grim,  — 
A  fragment  of  Valhalla's    Thor, 
The  stormy  Viking's  god  of  war, 
Or  Praga  of  the  Runic  lay, 
Or  love-awakening  Siona, 
I  know  not,  —  for  no  graven  line, 
Nor  Druid  mark,  nor  Runic  sign. 
Is  left  me  here,  by  which  to  trace 
Its  name,  or  origin,  or  place. 
Yet,  for  this  vision  of  the  Past, 
This  glance  upon  its  darkness  cast. 
My  spirit  bows  in  gratitude 
Before  the  Giver  of  all  good, 
Who  fashioned  so  the  human  mind, 
That,  from  the  waste  of  Time  behind, 
A  simple  stone,  or  mound  of  earth. 
Can  summon  the  departed  forth; 
Quicken  the  Past  to  life  again, 
The  Present  lose  in  what  hath  been, 
And  in  their  primal  freshness  show 
The  buried  forms  of  long  ago. 
As  if  a  portion  of  that  Thought 
By  which  the  Eternal  will  is  wrought. 


CHARLES    KINGSLEY. 


195 


Whose  impulse  fills  anew  with  breath 
The  frozen  solitude  of  Death, 
To  mortal  minds  were  sometimes  lent, 
To  mortal  musings  sometimes  sent, 
To  whisper  —  even  when  it  seems 
But  Memory's  fantasy  of  dreams  — 
Through  the  mind's  waste  of  woe  and  sin, 
Of  an  immortal  origin! 


XLII.    CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 


CHARLES  KINGS- 
LEY  was  an 
English  clergyman  and 
college  professor.  Be- 
sides books  for  older 
people,  he  wrote  several 
for  boys  and  girls,  and 
very  interesting  they 
are.  He  loved-  nature, 
and  used  to  tramp  over 
the  fields,  observing  the 
plants  and  the  rocks, 
and  thinking  about  the 
wonderful  works  of  the 
Creator  in  making  this 
beautiful  world.  His 
books  for  children  are 
mostly    written    about  charles  kingsley. 

what  he   saw  in  the  fields  and  woods.     The  selection  here 


196  A   FIFTH    READER. 


given  is  taken  from  a  volume  entitled  "  Madam  How  and 
Lady  Why,"  all  of  which  is  well  worth  reading.  Charles 
Kingsley  was  born  in  Holme,  Devonshire,  1819,  and  died 
at  Eversley,  Hampshire,  in  1875. 


XLIII.  THE  CORAL  REEF. 

By  Charles  Kingsley. 
CHAPTER  I. 

NOW  you  want  to  know  what  I  meant  when  I  talked  of 
a  bit  of  lime  going  out  to  sea  and  forming  part  of  a 
coral  island,  and  then  of  a  limestone  rock,  and  then  of  a 
marble  statue.     Very  good.     Then  look  at  this  stone. 

What  a  curious  stone  !  Did  it  come  from  any  place  near 
here  ? 

No.  It  came  from  near  Dudley,  in  Staffordshire,  where 
the  soils  are  worlds  and  worlds  older  than  they  are  here, 
though  they  were  made  in  the  same  way  as  these  and  all 
other  soils.    But  you  are  not  listening  to- me. 

Why,  the  stone  is  full  of  shells  and  bits  of  coral ;  and 
what  are  these  wonderful  things  coiled  and  tangled  together 
like  the  snakes  in  Medusa's  hair  in  the  picture  ?  Are  they 
snakes  ? 

If  they  are,  then  they  must  be  snakes  who  have  all  one 
head  ;  for  see,  they  are  joined  together  at  their  larger  ends  ; 
and  snakes  which  are  branched,  too,  which  no  snake  ever  was. 

Yes,  I  suppose  they  are  snakes.  And  they  grow  out  of 
a  flower,  too ;  and  it  has  a  stalk,  jointed,  too,  as  plants  some- 
times are ;  and  as  fishes'  backbones  are,  too.  Is  it  a  petrified 
plant  or  flower  ? 


THE    CORAL    REEF. 


197 


No ;  though  I  do  not  deny  that  it  looks  like  one.  The 
creature  most  akin  to  it  which  you  ever  saw  is  a  starfish. 

What!  one  of  the  red  starfishes  that  one  finds  on  the 
beach?     Its  arms  are  not  branched. 

No.  But  there  are  starfishes  with  branched  arms  still  in 
the  sea.     You  know  that  pretty  book  (and  learned  book,  too), 


BRAIN  CORAL. 


Forbes'  "  British  Starfishes  "  ?  You  like  to  look  it  through 
for  the  sake  of  the  vignettes,^  —  the  mermaid  and  her  child 
playing  in  the  sea. 

Oh,  yes,  and  the  king  bogie,  who  is  piping  while  the  sand- 
stars  dance ;  and  the  other,  who  is  trying  to  pull  out  the 
starfish  which  the  oyster  has  caught. 

Yes.  But  do  you  recollect  the  drawing  of  the  Medusa's 
head,  with  its  curling  arms,  branched  again  and  again 
without  end  ?  Here  it  is.  No,  you  shall  not  look  at  the 
vignettes  now.      First,  look  at  this  one,  —  the  feather-star, 

1  vi-gnette'  (vin-yef),  a  decorative  design. 


198  ^  A   FIFTH   READER. 

with  arms  almost  like  fern  fronds.  And  in  foreign  seas 
there  are  many  other  branched  starfish  besides. 

But  they  have  no  stalks  ? 

Do  not  be  too  sure  of  that.  This  very  feather-star,  soon 
after  it  is  born,  grows  a  tiny  stalk,  by  which  it  holds  on 
to  corallines  ^  and  seaweeds ;  and  it  is  not  till  afterwards 
that  it  breaks  loose  from  the  stalk,  and  swims  away  freely 
into  the  wide  water.  In  foreign  seas  there  are  several 
starfish  still  that  grow  On  stalks  all  their  lives,  as  this  fossil 
one  did. 

How  strange  that  a  live  animal  should  grow  on  a  stalk, 
like  a  flower ! 

Not  quite  like  a  flower.  A  flower  has  roots,  by  which  it 
feeds  in  the  soil.  These  things  grow  more  like  seaweeds, 
which  have  no  roots,  but  only  hold  on  to  the  rock  by  the 
foot  of  the  stalk,  as  a  ship  holds  on  by  her  anchor.  But 
,as  for  its  being  strange  that  live  animals  should  grow  on 
stalks,  if  it  be  strange  it  is  common  enough,  like  many 
far  stranger  things.  For  under  the  water  are  millions  on 
millions  of  creatures,  spreading  for  miles  on  miles,  building 
up  at  last  great  reefs  of  rocks,  and  whole  islands,  which 
all  grow  rooted  first  to  the  rock,  like  seaweeds ;  and  what 
is  more,  they  grow,  most  of  them,  from  one  common  root, 
branching  again  and  again,  and  every  branchlet  bearing 
hundreds  of  living  creatures,  so  that,  the  whole  creature  is 
at  once  one  creature  and  many  creatures.  Do  you  not 
understand  me? 

No. 

Then  fancy  to  yourself  a  bush  like  that  hawthorn  bush, 
with  numberless  blossoms,  and  every  blossom  on  that  bush  a 
separate  living  thing,  with  its  own  mouth,  and  arms,  and 
^  cor'al-line,  a  small  coral-like  animal. 


THE    CORAL    REEF. 


199 


stomach,  budding  and  growing  fresh  live  branches  and  fresh 
live  flowers  as  fast  as  the  old  ones  die ;  then  you  will  see 
better  what  I  mean. 

How  wonderful ! 

Yes ;  but  not  more  wonderful  than  your  finger,  for  it,  too, 
is  made  of  numberless  living  things. 

My  finger  made  of  living  things  ? 

What  else  can  it  be?  When 
you  cut  your  finger,  does  not  the 
place  heal? 

Of  course. 

And  what  is  healing  but 
growing  again  ?  And  how 
could  the  atoms  of  your  fingers 
grow,  and  make  fresh  skin,  if 
they  were  not  each  of  them 
alive?  There,. I  will  not  guz- 
zle, you  with  too  much  at  once  ; 
you  will  know  more  about  all 
that  some  day.  Only  remem- 
ber now,  that  there  is  nothing 
wonderful  in  the  world  outside  you 
but  has  its  counterpart  of  some- 
thing just  as  wonderful,  and  per- 
haps more  wonderful,  inside  you.  Man  is  the  microc^ 
the  little  world,  —  said  the  philosophers  of  old ;  and  philos- 
ophers nowadays  are  beginning  to  see  that  their  old  guess 
is  actual  fact,  and  true. 

But  what  are  these  curious  sea-creatures  called,  which  are 
animals,  yet  grow  like  plants  ? 

They  have  more  names  than  I  can, tell  you,  or  you  remem- 
ber.    Those   which  helped  to  make  this  bit   of  stone  are 


CORAL   STALK    AXD   BRANCHES. 


200  A   FIFTH   READER. 

called  coral  insects;  but  they  are  not  really  insects,  and 
are  no  more  like  insects  than  you  are.  Coral  polyps  is  the 
best  name  for  them,  because  they  have  arms  around  their 
mouths  something  like  a  cuttiefisb  which  the  ancients  called 
polypus.  But  the  animal  which  you  have  seen  likes t  to 
most  of  them  is  a  sea  anemone^ 

Look  now  at  this  piece  of  fresh  coral,  —  for  coral  it  is, 
though  not  like  the  coral  which  your  sister  wears  in  her 
necklace.  You  see  it  is  full  of  pipes ;  in  each  of  those  pipes 
has  lived  what  we  will  call,  for  the  time  being,  a  tiny  sea 
anemone,  joined  on  to  his  brothers  by  some  sort  of  flesh  and 
skin ;  and  all  of  them  together  have  built  up,  out  of  the 
lime  in  the  sea  water,  this  common  house,  or  rather  town, 
of  lime. 

But  is  it  not  strange  and  wonderful  ? 

Of  course  it  is ;  but  so  is  everything  when  you  begin  to 
look  into  it ;  and  if  I  were  to  go  on  and  tell  you  what  sort 
of  young  ones  these  coral  polyps  have,  and  what  becomes 
of  them,  you  would  hear  such  wonders  that  you  would  be 
ready  to  suspect  that  I  was  inventing  nonsense  or  talking 
in  my  dreams.  But  all  that  belongs  to  Madam  How's 
deepest  book  of  all,  which  is  called  the  ''  Book  of  Kind," 
a  book  which  children  cannot  understand,  and  in  which  the 
very  wisest  men  are  able  to  spell  out  a  few  words  only. 

CHAPTER  n. 

"NT OW  we  will  go  back  to  our  story,  and  talk  about  how 
-^  ^      it  was  made,  and  how  the  stalked  starfish,  which 
you  mistook  for  a  flower,  ever  got  into  the  stone. 
.    Then  do  you  think  me  silly  for  thinking  that  a  fossil  star- 
fish was  a  flower  ? 


THE    CORAL    REEF. 


201 


I  should  be  silly  if  I  did.  There  is  no  silliness  in  not 
knowing  what  you  cannot  know.  You  can  only  guess  about 
things  which  you  have  never  seen  before,  by  comparing 
them  with  old  things  which  you  have  seen  before ;  and  you 
have  seen  flowers,  and  snakes,  and  fishes'  backbones,  and 
made  a  very  fair  guess  from  them.  After  all,  some  of  these 
stalked  starfish 
are  so  like  flow- 
ers, lilies  espe- 
cially, that  they 
are  called  Encri- 
nites;  and  the 
whole  family  is 
called  Crinoids, 
or  lily-like  crea- 
tures, from  the 
Greek  word  kri- 
non^  a  lily  :  and 
as  for  coral  and 
corallines,  learn- 
ed men,  in  spite 
of  all  their  care 
and  shrewdness, 
made  mistake 
after  mistake 
about  them, 
which  they  had 
to  correct  again  and  again,  till  now,  I  trust,  they  have  got 
at  something  very  like  the  truth.  No,  I  shall  only  call  you 
silly  if  you  do  what  some  little  boys  are  apt  to  do,  —  call 
other  boys,  and,  still  worse,  servants,  or  poor  people,  silly 
for  not  knowing  what  they  cannot  know. 


FAN   CORAL. 


202  A    FIFTH    READER. 

But  are  not  poor  people  very  silly  about  animals  and 
plants  ?  The  boys  at  the  village  school  say  that  slowworms 
are  poisonous ;  is  not  that  silly  ? 

Not  at  all.  They  know  that  adders  bite,  and  so  they 
think  that  slowworms  bite  too.  They  are  wrong,  and  they 
must  be  told  that  they  are  wrong,  and  scolded  if  they  kill 
a  slowworm.     But  silly,  they  are  not. 

But  is  it  not  silly  to  think  that  swallows  sleep  all  winter 
at  the  bottom  of  the  pond  ? 

I  do  not  think  so.  The  boys  cannot  know  where  the 
swallows  go  ;  and  if  you  told  them  —  what  is  true  —  that 
the  swallows  find  their  way  every  autumn  through  France, 
through  Spain,  over  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  into  Morocco, 
and  some,  I  believe,  over  the  great  desert  of  the  Zahara  into 
Negroland :  and  if  you  told  them  —  what  is  true  also  — 
that  the  young  swallows  actually  find  their  way  into  Africa 
without  having  been  along  the  road  before  (because  the  old 
swallows  go  south  a  week  or  two  first,  and  leave  the  young 
ones  to  guess  out  the  way  for  themselves) -^  if  you  told 
them  that,  then  they  would  have  a  right  to  say,  "  I)o  you 
expect  us  to  believe  that?  "  That  is  much  more  wonderful 
than  that  the  swallows  should  sleep  in  the  pond. 

But  is  it?'  ^ 

Yes ;  to  them.  They  know  that  bats,  and  dormice,  and 
other  things  sleep  all  winter :  so  why  should  not  swallows 
sleep  ?  They  see  the  swallows  about  the  water,  and  often 
almost  dipping  into  it.  They  know  that  fishes  live  under 
water,  and  that  many  insects  —  like  May  flies  and  caddis  flies 
and  water  beetles  —  live  sometimes  in  the  water,  sometimes 
in  the  open  air;  and  they  cannot  know  —  you  do  not  know 
—  what  it  is  which  prevents  a  bird  living  under  water.  So 
their  guess  is  really  a  fair  one ;  no  more  silly  than  that  of 


THE    CORAL    REEF.  203 

the  savages,  who  when  they  first  saw  the  white  men's  ships, 
with  their  huge  sails,  fancied  they  were  enormous  sea  birds ; 
and  when  they  heard  the  cannons  fire,  said  that  the  ships 
spoke  in  thunder  and  lightning.  Their  guess  was  wrong, 
but  not  silly ;  for  it  was  the  best  guess  they  could  make. 

But  I  do  know  of  one  old  woman  who  was  silly.  She 
was  a  boy's  nurse,  and  she  gave  the  boy  a  tiling  which  she 
said  was  one  of  the  snakes  that  Saint  Hilda  turned  into 
stone,  and  told  him  that  they  found  plenty  of  them  at 
Whitby,  where  she  was  born,  all  coiled  up ;  but  what  was 
very  odd,  their  heads '  had  always  been  broken  off.  And 
when  he  took  it  to  his  father,  he  told  him  it  was  only  a  fossil 
shell,  —  an  Ammonite.  And  he  went  back,  and  laughed  at 
his  nurse,  and  teased  her  till  she  was  quite  angry. 

Then  he  was  very  lucky  that  she  did  not  box  his  ears,  for 
that  is  what  he  deserved.  I  dare  say  that,  though  his  nui-se 
had  never  heard  of  Ammonites,  she  was  a  wise  old  dame 
enough,  and  knew  a  hundred  things  which  he  did  not  know, 
and  which  were  far  more  important  than  Ammonites,  even 
to  him.   - 

How? 

Because  if  she  had  not  known  how  to  nurse  him  well,  he 
would,  perhaps,  have  never  grown  up  alive  and  strong. 
And  if  she  had  not  known  how  to  make  him  obey  and  speak 
the  truth,  l^e  might  have  grown  up  a  naughty  boy. 

But  was  she  not  silly  ? 
•  No.     She  only  believed  what  the  Whitby  folk,  I  under- 
stand^ have  some  of  them  believed  for  many  hundred  years. 
And  no  one  can  be  blamed  for  thinking  as  his  forefathers 
did,  unless  he  has  cause  to  know  better. 

Surely  she  might  have  known  better. 

How?     What  reason  could  she  have  to  believe  that  the 


204  A   FIFTH   READER. 

Ammonite  was  a  shell  ?  It  is  not  the  least  like  cockles,  or 
whelks,  or  any  shell  she  ever  saw. 

What  reason  either  could  she  have  to  guess  that  Whitby 
cliff  had  once  been  coral  mud  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea? 
No  more  reason,  my  dear  child,  than  you  have  to  guess  that 
this  stone  had  been  coral  mud  likewise,  if  I  did  not  teach 
you  so,  —  or,  rather,  try  to  make  you  teach  yourself  so. 

No.  I  say  it  again.  If  you  wish  to  learn,  I  will  only 
teach  you  on  condition  that  you  do  not  laugh  at,  or  despise, 
those  good  and  honest  and  able  people  who  do  not  know  or 
care  about  these  things,  because  they  have  other  things  to 
think  of,  like  old  John  out  there  plowing.  He  would  not 
believe  you  —  he  would  hardly  believe  me  —  if  we  told  him 
that  this  stone  had  once  been  a  swarm  of  living  things,  of 
exquisite  shapes  and  glorious  colors.  And  yet  he  can  plow 
and  sow,  and  reap  and  mow,  and  fell  and  strip,  and  hedge 
and  ditch,  and  give  his  neighbors  sound  advice,  and  take  the 
measure  of  a  man's  worth  from  ten  minutes'  talk,  and  say 
his  prayers,  and  keep  his  temper,  and  pay  his  debts,  —  which 
last  three  things  are  more  than  a  good  many  folks  can  do 
who  fancy  themselves  a  whole  world  wiser  than  John  in 
the  smock  frock. 

Oh,  but  I  want  to  hear  about  the  exquisite  shapes  and 
glorious  colors ! 

Of  course  you  do,  little  man.  A  few  fine  epithets  take 
your  fancy  far  more  than  a  little  common  sense  and  common 
humility ;  but  in  that  you  are  no  worse  than  some  of  your 
elders.  So  now  for  the  exquisite  shapes  and  glorious  colors. 
I  have  never  seen  them,  though  I  trust  to  see  them  ere  I 
die.  So  what  they  are  like  I  can  only  tell  from  what  I  have 
learnt  from  Mr.  Darwin,  and  Mr.  Wallace,  and  Mr.  Jukes, 
and  Mr.  Gosse,  and  last,  but  not  least,  from  one  whose  soul 


THE    CORAL    REEF.  205 

was  as  beautiful  as  his  face,  Lucas  Barrett,  —  too  soon  lost 
to  science,  —  who  was  drowned  in  exploring  such  a  coral 
reef  as  this  stone  was  once. 

Then  there  are  such  things  alive  now  ? 

Yes,  and  no.  The  descendants  of  most  of  them  live  on, 
altered  by  time,  which  alters  all  things ;  and  from  the 
beauty  of  the  children  we  can  guess  the  beauty  of  their 
ancestors ;  just  as  from  the  coral  reefs  which  exist  now  we 
can  guess  how  the  coral  reefs  of  old  were  made. 

CHAPTER  III. 

AND  what  is  a  coral  reef  like  ? 
You  have  seen  the  room  in  the  British  Museum  full 
of  corals,  madrepores,  brain  stones,  corallines,  and  sea  ferns  ? 

Oh,  yes. 

Then  fancy  all  those  alive.  Not  as  they  are  now,  white 
stone,  but  covered  in  jelly ;  and  out  of  every  pore  a  little 
polyp,  like  a  flower,  peeping  out.  Fancy  them  of  every 
gaudy  color  you  choose.  No  bed  of  flowers,  they  say,  can 
be  more  brilliant  than  the  corals,  as  you  look  down  on  them 
through  the  clear  sea.  Fancy,  again,  growing  among  them, 
and  crawling  over  them,  strange  sea  anemones,  shells,  star- 
fish, sea  slugs,  and  sea  cucumbers  with  feathery  gills,  crabs, 
and  shrimps,  and  hundreds  of  other  animals,  all  as  strange  in 
shape,  and  as  brilliant  in  color.  You  may  let  your  fancy  run 
wild.  Nothing  so  odd,  nothing  so  gay,  ever  entered  into 
your  dreams,  or  a  poet's,  as  you  may  find  alive  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  sea,  in  the  live  flower  gardens  of  the  sea  fairies. 

There  will  be  shoals  of  fish,  too,  playing  in  and  out,  as 
strange  and  gaudy  as  the  rest,  —  parrot  fish  who  browse  on 
the  live  coral  with  their  beak-like  teeth,  as  cattle  browse  on 


206  A   FIFTH    READER. 

grass ;  and  at  the  bottom,  it  may  be,  larger  and  uglier  fish, 
who  eat  the  crabs  and  shellfish,  shells  and  all,  grinding 
them  up  as  a  dog  grinds  a  bone,  and  so  turning  shells  and 
corals  into  fine,  soft  mud  such  as  this  stone  is  partly 
made  of. 

But  what  happens  to  all  the  delicate  little  corals  if  a  storm 
comes  on  ? 

What  indeed  ?  Madame  How  has  made  them  so  well  and 
wisely,  that,  like  brave  and  good  men,  the  more  trouble  they 
suffer  the  stronger  they  grow.'  Day  and  night,  week  after 
week,  the  trade  wind  blows  upon  them,  hurling  the  waves 
against  them  in  furious  surf,  knocking  off  great  lumps  of 
coral,  grinding  them  to  powder,  throwing  them  over  the 
reef  into  the  shallow  water  inside.  But  the  heavier  the  surf 
beats  upon  them,  the  stronger  the  polyps  outside  grow,  re- 
pairing their  broken  houses,  and  building  up  fresh  coral  on 
the  dead  coral  below,  because  it  is  in  the  fresh  sea-water 
that  beats  upon  the  surf  that  they  find  most  lime  with 
which  to  build.  And  as  they  build  they  form  a  barrier 
against  the  surf,  inside  of  which,  in  water  still  as  glass,  the 
weaker  and  more  delicate  things  can  grow  in  safety,  just  as 
these  very  Encrinites  may  have  grown,  rooted  in  the  lime 
mud,  and  waving  their  slender  arms  at  the  bottom  of  the 
lagoon.  Such  mighty  builders  are  these  little  coral  polyps 
that  all  the  works  of  men  are  small  compared  Avith  theirs. 
One  single  reef,  for  instance,  which  is  entirely  made  by 
them,  stretches  along  the  northeast  coast  of  Australia  for 
nearly  a  thousand  miles.  Of  this  you  must  read  some  day 
in  Mr.  Jukes'  "  Voyage  of  H.  M.  S.  Fly."  Every  island 
throughout  a  great  part  of  the  Pacific  is  fringed  round  each 
with  its  coral  reef,  and  there  are  hundreds  of  islands  of 
strange  shapes,   and  of  atolls,  as  they  are  called,  or  ring 


THE    CORAL    REEF.  207 

islands,  wliich  are  composed  entirely  of  coral  and  of  nothing 
else. 

A  ring  island  ?  How  can  an  island  be  made  in  the  shape 
of  a  ring  ? 

Ah  !  it  was  a  long  time  before  men  found  out  that  riddle. 
Mr.  Darwin  was  the  fii-st  to  guess  the  answer,  as  he  has 
guessed  many  an  answer  besides.  These  islands  are  each  a 
ring,  or  nearly  a  ring,  of  "coral,  with  smooth,  sballow  water 


AN   ATOLL,   OR   RING   ISLAND. 

inside :  but  their  outsides  run  down,  like  a  mountain  wall, 
sheer  into  seas  hundreds  of  fathoms  deep.  People  used 
to  believe,  and  reasonably  enough,  that  the  coral  polyps 
began  to  build  up  the  islands  from  the  very  bottom  of  the  ■ 
deep  sea.  But  that  would  not  account  for  the  top  of  them 
being  of  the  shape  of  a  ring ;  and  in  time  it  was  found  that 
the  corals  would  not  build  except  in  shallow  water,  twenty 
or  thirty  fathoms  deep  at  most,  and  men  were  at  their 
wits'  end  to  find  out  the  riddle. 

Then  said  Mr.  Darwin,  "  Suppose  one  of  those  beautiful 
South  Sea  Islands,  like  Thati,  the  Queen  of  Isles,  with  its 
ring  of  coral  reef  all  round  its  shore,  began  sinking  slowly 
under  the  sea.  The  land,  as  it  sunk,  would  be  gone  for 
good   and    all ;   but  the   coral   reef    round   it   would   not, 


208  A   FIFTH   READER. 

because  the  coral  polyps  would  build  up  and  up  continually 
upon  the  skeletons  of  their  dead  parents,  to  get  to  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  and  would  keep  close  to  the  top  outside, 
however  much  the  land  simk  inside ;  and  when  the  island 
had  sunk  completely  beneath  the  sea,  what  would  be  left  ? 
What  must  be  left  but  a  ring  of  coral  reef,  around  the  spot 
where  the  last  mountain  peak  of  the  island  sank  beneath 
the  sea?"  And  so  Mr.  Darwin  explained  the  shapes  of 
hundreds  of  coral  islands  in  the  Pacific,  and  proved,  too, 
some  strange  things  besides.  He  proved  (and  other  men, 
like  Mr.  Wallace,  whose  excellent  book  on  the  East  India 
Islands  you  must  read  some  day,  have  proved  in  other 
ways)  that  there  was  a  great  continent,  joined  perhaps  to 
Australia  and  to  New  Guinea,  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  where 
are  now  nothing  but  deep  sea  and  coral  reefs  which  mark 
the  mountain  ranges  of  that  sunken  world. 

But  how  does  the  coral  ever  rise  above  the  surface  of  the 
water  and  turn  into  hard  stone  ? 

Of  course  the  coral  polyps  cannot  build  above  the  high-tide 
mark ;  but  the  surf  which  beats  upon  them  piles  up  their 
broken  fragments  just  as  a  seabeach  is  piled  up,  and  ham- 
mers them  together  with  that  water  hammer  which  is  heavier 
and  stronger  than  any  you  have  ever  seen  in  a  smith's  forge. 
And  then,  as  is  the  fashion  of  lime,  the  whole  mass  sets 
and  becomes  hard,  as  you  may  see  mortar  set ;  and  so  you 
have  a  low  island  a  few  feet  above  the  sea.  The  sea  birds 
come  to  it,  and  rest  and  build ;  and  seeds  are  floated  thither 
from  far  lands ;  and  among  them  almost  always  the  cocoa- 
nut,  which  loves  to  grow  by  the  seashore,  and  groves  of 
cocoa  palms  grow  up  on  the  lonely  island. 

Then,  perhaps,  trees  and  bushes  are  drifted  thither  before 
the  trade  wind ;  and  entangled  in  their  roots  are  the  seeds 


THE    CORAL    REEF.  209 

of  other  plants,  and  eggs  or  cocoons  of  insects ;  and  so  a 
few  flowers  and  a  few  butterflies  and  beetles  set  up  for 
themselves  upon  the  new  island.  And  then  a  bird  or  two, 
caught  in  a  storm  and  blown  away  to  sea,  finds  shelter  in 
the  cocoa  grove ;  and  so  a  little  new  world  is  set  up,  in 
which,  you  must  remember  always  that,  there  are  no  four- 
footed  beasts,  nor  snakes,  nor  lizards,  nor  frogs,  nor  any 
animals  that  cannot  cross  the  sea.  And  on  some  of  those 
islands  they  may  live  (indeed  there  is  reason  to  believe 
they  have  lived)  so  long,  that  some  of  them  have  changed 
their  forms  according  to  the  laws  of  Madam  How,  who 
sooner  or  later  fits  each  thing  exactly  for  the  place  in 
which  it  is  meant  to  live,  till  upon  some  of  them  you 
may  find  such  strange  and  unique  creatures  as  the  famous 
cocoanut  crab,  which  learned  men  call  Birgus  latro. 

A  great  crab  he  is,  who  walks  a  foot  high  above  the 
ground,  upon  the  tips  of  his  toes.  And  because  he  has 
often  nothing  to  eat  but  cocoanuts,  or  at  least  they  are  the 
best  things  he  can  find,  cocoanuts  he  has  learned  to  eat,  and 
after  a  fashion  it  would  puzzle  you  to  imitate.  Some  say 
that  he  climbs  up  the  stems  of  the  cocoanut  trees,  and  pulls 
the  fruit  down  for  himself ;  but  that,  it  seems,  he  does  not 
usually  do.  What  he  does  is  this:  when  he  finds  a  fallen 
cocoanut,  he  begins  tearing  away  the  husk  and  fiber  with 
his  strong  claws ;  and  he  knows  perfectly  well  which  end 
to  tear  it  from,  namely,  from  the  end  where  the  three  eye- 
holes are,  which  you  call  the  monkey's  face,  out  of  one  of 
which,  you  know,  the  young  cocoanut  tree  would  burst 
forth.  And  when  he  has  got  to  the  eyeholes,  he  hammers 
through  one  of  them  with  the  point  of  his  heavy  claw.  So 
far,  so  good;  but  how  is  he  to  get  the  meat  out?  He  can- 
not put  his  claw  in.     He  has  no  proboscis  like  a  butterfly, 

15 — oR 


210 


A   FIFTH    READER. 


to  insert  and  suck  with.     He  is  as  badly  off  as  the  fox  was 
when  the  stork  offered  him  a  feast  in  a  long-necked  jar. 

What  then  do  you  think  he  does?     He  turns  himself 
roimd,  puts  in  a  pair  of  his  hind  pincers,  which  are  very 


GREAT-  BARR\EfL  QO^IAL   REEF   OF    AUSTRALIA. 

slender,  and  with  .them  scoops  the  meat  out  of  the  cocoa- 
.huV,  and  so  put^  his  dinner  into  his  mouth  Avith  his  hind- 
feet.  And  even  the  cocoam*^husk  he  does  not  waste;  for 
he  lives  in  deep  burrows,  which  he  makes  like  a  rabbit ;  and 
being  a  luxurious  crab,  and  liking  to  sleep  soft  in  spite  of 
his  hard  shell,  he  lines  them  with  a  quantity  of  cocoanut 
fiber^  picked  out  clean  and  fine,  just  as  if  he  were  going 
to  make  cocoanut  matting  of  it.  And  being  also  a  clean 
crab,  as  I  hope  you  are  a  clean  little  boy,  he  goes  down  to 


THE    CORAL    REEF.  211 

the  sea  every  night  to  have  his  bath  and  moisten  his  gills, 
and  so  lives  happy  all  his  days,  and  gets  so  fat  in  his  old 
age  that  he  carries  about  his  body  nearly  a  quart  of  oil. 

That  is  the  history  of  the  cocoanut  crab.  And  if  any 
one  tells  me  that  that  crab  acts  only  on  what  is  called 
"  instinct,"  and  does  not  think  and  reason,  just  as  you  and 
I  think  and  reason,  though  of  course  not  in  words  as  you 
and  I  do,  then  I  shall  be  inclined  to  say  that  that  person 
does  not  think  nor  reason  either. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THEX  were  there  many  coral  reefs  in  Britain  in  old  times? 
Yes,  many  and  many,  again  and  again ;  some  whole 
ages  older  than  this,  a  bit  of  which  you  see,  and  some  again 
whole  ages  newer.  But  look :  then  judge  for  yourself.  Look 
at  this  geological  map.  Wherever  you  see  a  bit  of  blue, 
which  is  the  mark  for  limestone,  you  may  say,  "  There  is 
a  bit  of  coral  reef  rising  up  to  the  surface."  But  because 
I  will  not  puzzle  your  little  heads  with  too  many  things  at 
once,  you  shall  look  at  one  set  of  coral  reefs  which  are  far 
newer  than  this  bit  of  Dudley  limestone,  and  which  are  the 
largest,  I  suppose,  that  ever  were  in  this  country ;  or,  at 
least,  there  is  more  of  them  left  than  of  any  others. 

Look  first  at  Ireland.  You  see  that  almost  all  the  middle  of 
Ireland  is  colored  blue.  It  is  one  great  sheet  of  coral  reef 
and  coral  mud,  which  is  now  called  the  carboniferous  lime- 
stone. You  see  red  and  purple  patches  rising  out  of  it, 
like  islands,  —  and  islands  I  suppose  they  were,  of  hard  and 
ancient  rock,  standing  up  in  the  middle  of  the  coral  sea. 

But  look  again,  and  you  will  see  that  along  the  west 
coast  of  Ireland,  except  in  very  few  places,  like  Galway 


212  A   FIFTH   READER. 

Bay,  the  blue  limestone  does  not  come  down  to  the  sea ;  the 
shore  is  colored  purple  and  brown,  and  those  colors  mark 
the  ancient  rocks  and  high  mountains  of  Mayo  and  Galway 
and  Kerry,  which  stand  as  barriers  to  keep  the  raging  surf 
of  the  Atlantic  from  bursting  inland  and  beating  away,  as 
it  surely  would  in  course  of  time,  the  low  flat  limestone 
plain  of  the  middle  of  Ireland.  But  the  same  coral  reefs 
once  stretched  out  far  to  the  westward  into  the  Atlantic 
Ocean;  and  you  may  see  the  proof  upon  that  map. 

For  in  the  western  bays,  in  Clew  Bay  with  its  hundred 
islands,  and  Galway  Bay  with  its  Isles  of  Arran,  and  beau- 
tiful Kenmare,  and  beautiful  Bantry,  you  see  little  blue 
spots,  which  are  low  limestone  islands  standing  in  the  sea, 
overhung  by  mountains  far  aloft.  You  have  often  heard 
those  islands  in  Kenmare  Bay  talked  of,  and  how  some  whom 
you  know  go  to  fish  round  them  by  night  for  turbot  and 
conger;  and  when  you  hear  them  spoken  of  again,  you 
must  recollect  that  they  are  the  last  fragment  of  a  great 
fringing  coral  reef,  which  will  in  a  few  thousand  years 
follow  the  fate  of  the  rest  and  be  eaten  up  by  the  waves. 

Now  look  at  England,  and  there  you  will  see  at  least 
patches  of  a  great  coral  reef  which  was  forming  at  the  same 
time  as  that  Irish  one,  and  on  which  perhaps  some  of  your 
schoolfellows  have  often  stood.  You  have  heard  of  St.  Vin- 
cent's Rocks  at  Bristol,  and  the  marble  cliffs,  two  hundred  and 
fifty  feet  in  height,  covered  in  part  with  rich  wood  and  rare 
flowers,  and  the  Avon  running  through  the  narrow  gorge, 
and  the  stately  ships  sailing  far  below  your  feet  from  Bristol 
to  the  Severn  Sea.  And  you  may  see,  for  here  they  ai'e, 
corals  from  St.  Vincent's  Rocks,  cut  and  polished,  showing 
too,  that  they  also,  like  the  Dudley  limestone,  are  made  up 
of  corals  and  of  coral  mud.     Now,  whenever  you  see  St 


THE    CORAL    REEF.  213 


Vincent's  Rocks,  as  I  suspect  you  very  soon  will,  recollect 
where  you  are,  and  use  your  fancy  to  paint  for  yourself  a 
picture  as  strange  as  it  is  true. 

Fancy  that  those  rocks  are  what  they  once  were,  a  coral 
reef  close  to  the  surface  of  a  shallow  sea.  Fancy  that  there 
is  no  gorge  of  the  Avon,  no  wide  Severn  Sea,  —  for  those 
were  eaten  out  by  water  ages  and  ages  afterwards.  But 
picture  to  yourself  the  coral  sea  reaching  away  to  the  north, 
to  the  foot  of  the  Welsh  mountains ;  and  then  fancy  your- 
self, if  you  will,  in  a  canoe,  paddling  up  through  the  coral 
reefs,  north  and  still  north,  up  the  valley  down  wliich  the 
Severn  now  flows,  up  through  what  is  now  Worcestershire, 
then  up  through  Staffordshire,  then  through  Derbyshire,  into 
Yorkshire,  and  so  on  through  Durham  and  Northumberland, 
till  you  find  yourself  stopped  by  the  Ettrick  Hills  in  Scot- 
land; while  all  to  the  westward  of  you,  where  is  now  the 
greater  part  of  England,  was  open  sea. 

You  may  say,  if  you  know  anything  of  the  geography  of 
England,  "  Impossible  !  That  would  be  to  paddle  over  the 
tops  of  mountains ;  over  the  top  of  the  peak  in  Derbyshire, 
over  the  top  of  High  Craven  and  Whernside  and  Pen-y- 
gent  and  Cross  Fell,  and  to  paddle  too  over  the  Cheviot 
Hills,  which  part  England  and  Scotland."  I  know  it,  my 
child,  I  know  it.  But  so  it  was  once  on  a  time.  The  liigh 
limestone  mountains  which  part  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire 
—  the  very  chine  and  backbone  of  England  —  were  once 
coral  reefs  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  They  are  all  made 
up  of  the  carboniferous  limestone,  so  called,  as  your  little 
knowledge  of  Latin  ought  to  tell  you,  because  it  carries 
the  coal ;  because  the  coalfields  usually  lie  upon  it.  It  may 
be  impossible  to  your  eyes,  but  remember  always  that 
nothing  is  impossible  with  God. 


214  A  FIFTH   READER. 

But  you  said  that  the  coal  was  made  from  plants  and 
trees,  and  did  plants  and  trees  grow  on  this  coral  reef  ? 

That  I  cannot  say.  Trees  may  have  grown  on  the  dry 
parts  of  the  reef,  as  cocoanuts  grow  now  in  the  Pacific. 
But  the  coal  was  not  laid  down  upon  it  till  long  afterwards, 
when  it  had  gone  through  many  and  strange  changes.  For 
all  through  the  chine  of  England,  and  in  a  part  of  Ireland 
too,  there  lies  upon  the  top  of  the  limestone  a  hard,  gritty 
rock,  in  some  places  three  thousand  feet  thick,  which  is  com- 
monly called  "  the  mill-stone  grit."  Now  to  make  that 
three  thousand  feet  of  hard  rock,  what  must  have  hap- 
pened ?  The  sea  bottom  must  have  sunk,  slowly,  no  doubt, 
carrying  the  coral  reefs  down  with  it,  three  thousand  feet  at 
least ;  and  meanwhile  sand  and  mud,  made  from  the  wearing 
away  of  the  old  lands  in  the  North,  must  have  settled  down 
upon  it.  I  say  from  the  North,  for  there  are  no  fossils,  as  far 
as  I  know,  or  sign  of  life,  in  these  rocks  of  mill-stone  grit ; 
and  therefore  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  they  were 
brought  from  a  cold  current  at  the  Pole,  —  too  cold  to  allow 
sea  beasts  to  live,  —  quite  cold  enough,  certainly,  to  kill 
the  coral  insects,  who  could  only  thrive  in  warm  water, 
comings  from  the  South. 

Then,  to  go  on  with  my  story,  upon  the  top  of  these  mill- 
stone grits  came  sand,  and  mud,  and  peat,  and  trees,  and 
plants,  washed  out  to  sea,  as  far  as  we  can  guess,  from  the 
mouths  of  vast  rivers  flowing  from  the  West,  —  rivers  as 
vast  as  the  Amazon,  the  Mississippi,  or  the  Orinoco  are  now ; 
and  so,  in  long  ages,  upon  the  top  of  the  limestone,  and 
upon  the  top  of  the  mill-stone  grit,  were  laid  down  those 
beds  of  coal  which  you  see  burnt  now  in  every  fire. 

But  how  did  the  coral  reefs  rise  till  they  became  cliffs  at 
Bristol  and  mountains  in  Yorkshire  ? 


THE    CORAL    REEF. 


216 


COBAX    FORMATIONS. 


216  ,  A  FIFTH   READER. 

> 

The  earthquake  steam,  I  suppose,  raised  them.  One 
earthquake,  indeed,  or  a  series  of  earthquakes,  there  was, 
running  along  between  Lancashire  and  Yorkshire,  which 
made  the  vast  crack  and  upheaval  in  the  rocks.  The  Craven 
Fault,  running,  I  believe,  for  more  than  a  hundred  miles, 
and  lifting  the  rocks  in  some  places  several  hundred  feet. 
That  earthquake  helped  to  make  the  high  hills  which  over- 
hang Manchester  and  Preston,  and  all  the  manufacturing 
county  of  Lancashire.  That  earthquake  helped  to  make 
the  perpendicular  cliff  at  Malham  Cove,  and  many  another 
beautiful  bit  of  scenery.  And  that  and  other  earthquakes, 
by  heating  the  rocks  from  the  fires  below,  may  have  helped 
to  change  them  from  soft  coral  into  hard  crystalline  marble, 
as  you  see  them  now,  just  as  volcanic  heat  has  hardened  and 
purified  the  beautiful  white  marbles  of  Pentelicus  and  Faros 
in  Greece,  and  Carrara  in  Italy,  from  which  statues  are 
carved  unto  this  day.  Or  the  same  earthquakes  may  have 
heated  and  hardened  the  limestones  simply  by  grinding  and 
squeezing  them ;  or  they  may  have  been  heated  and  hardened, 
in  the  course  of  long  ages,  simply  by  the  weight  of  the  thou- 
sands of  feet  of  other  rock  which  lay  upon  them.  For 
pressure,  you  must  remember,  produces  heat. 

When  you  strike  flint  and  steel  together,  the  pressure  of 
the  blow  not  only  makes  bits  of  steel  fly  off,  but  makes 
them  fly  off  in  red-hot  sparks.  When  you  hammer  a  piece 
of  iron  with  a  hammer,  you  will  soon  find  it  quite  warm. 
When  you  squeeze  the  air  together  in  your  popgun,  you 
actually  make  the  air  inside  warmer,  till  the  pellet  flies  out, 
and  the  air  expands  and  cools  again.  Nay,  I  believe  you 
cannot  hold  up  a  stone  on  the  palm  of  your  hand  without 
that  stone  after  a  while  warming  your  hand,  because  it 
presses  against  you  in  trying  to  fall  and  you  press  against 


THE    CORAL    REEF.  217 

it  in  trying  to  hold  it  up.  And  recollect,  above  all,  the 
great  and  beautiful  example  of  that  law  which  you  were 
lucky  enough  to  see  on  the  night  of  the  14th  of  November, 
1867,  how  those  falling  stars,  as  I  told  you  then,  were 
coming  out  of  boundless  space,  colder  than  any  ice  on 
earth,  and  yet,  simply  by  pressing  against  the  air  above 
our  heads,  they  had  their  motion  turned  into  heat,  till  they 
burned  themselves  up  into  trains  of  fiery  dust.  So  remem- 
ber that  whenever  you  have  pressure,  you  have  heat,  and 
that  the  pressure  of  the  upper  rocks  upon  the  lower  is 
quite  enough,  some  think,  to  account  for  older  and  lower 
rocks  being  harder  than  the  upper  and  newer  ones. 

But  why  should  the  lower  rocks  be  older,  and  the  upper 
ones  newer?  You  told  me  just  now  that  the  high  moun- 
tains in  Wales  were  ages  older  than  Windsor  Forest,  upon 
which  we  stand  ;  but  yet  how  much  lower  we  are  here  than 
if  we  were  on  a  Welsh  mountain. 

Ah,  my  dear  child,  of  course  that  puzzles  you,  and  I  am 
afraid  it  must  puzzle  you  until  we  have  another  talk ;  or 
rather  it  seems  to  me  the  best  way  to  explain  that  puzzle 
to  you  would  be  for  you  and  me  to  go  a  journey  into  the 
far  West,  and  look  into  the  matter  ourselves ;  and  from  here 
to  the  far  West  we  will  go,  either  in  fancy  or  on  a  real 
railroad  and  steamboat,  before  we  have  another  talk  about 
these  things. 

Now  it  is  the  time  to  stop.  Is  there  anything  more  you 
want  to  know?  —  for  you  look  as  if  something  was  puzzling 
you. 

Were  there  any  men  in  the  world  while  all  this  was 
going  on? 

I  think  not.  We  have  no  proof  that  there  were  not; 
but  also  we  have  no  proof  that  there  were.     The  cave  men, 


£18  A   FIFTH    READER. 

of  whom  I  told  you,  lived  many  ages  after  the  coal  was 
covered  up.  You  seem  to  be  sorry  that  there  were  no  men 
in  the  world  then. 

Because  it  seems  a  pity  that  there  was  no  one  to  see  those 
beautiful  coral  reefs  and  coal  forests. 

No  one  to  see  them,  my  child?  Who  told  you  that? 
Who  told  you  that  there  are  not  and  never  have  been  any 
rational  beings  in  this  vast  universe  save  certain  weak, 
ignorant,  short-sighted  creatures  shaped  like  you  and  me  ? 
But  even  if  it  were  so,  and  no  created  eye  had  ever  beheld 
those  ancient  wonders,  and  no  created  heart  ever  enjoyed 
them,  is  there  not  One  Uncreated  who  has  seen  them  and 
enjoyed  them  from  the  beginning?  AVere  not  these  crea- 
tures each  enjoying  themselves  after  their  kind  ?  And  was 
there  not  a  Father  in  heaven  who  was  enjoying  their 
enjoyment,  and  enjoying,  too,  their  beauty,  which  He 
had  formed  according  to  the  ideas  of  His  Eternal  Mind? 
Recollect  what  you  were  told  on  Trinity  Sunday :  that 
this  world  was  not  made  for  man  alone,  but  that  man,  and 
this  world,  and  the  whole  universe  were  made  for  God ;  for 
He  created  all  things,  and  for  His  pleasure  tliey  are,  and 
were  created. 


^mBOM^^L 


THE    PIED    PIPER    OF    HAMELIN.  219 

XLIV.     THE  PIED   PIPER  OF   HAMELIN. 

By  Robert  Browning. 
PART  I. 

HAMELIN   TOWN  's  in  Brunswick, 
By  famous  Hanover  city; 
The  River  Weser,  deep  and  Avide, 
Washes  its  wall  on  the  southern  side; 
A  pleasanter  spot  you  never  spied; 

But,  when  begins  my  ditty, 
Almost  five  hundred  yeai-s  ago. 
To  see  the  townsfolk  suffer  so 
From  vermin  was  a  pity. 

Rats! 

They  fought  the  dogs,  and  killed  the  cats. 

And  bit  the  babies  in  the  cradles, 
And  ate  the  cheeses  out  of  the  vats. 

And  licked  tlie  soup  from  the  cook's  own  ladles; 
Split  open  the  kegs  of  salted  sprats, 
Made  nests  inside  men's  Sunday  hats. 
And  even  spoiled  the  women's  chats, 

By  drowning  their  speaking 

With  shrieking  and  squeaking 
In  fifty  different  sharps  and  flats. 

At  last  the  people  in  a  body 

To  Ihe  Town  Hall  came  flocking: 
"  'T  is  clear,"  cried  they,  "  our  Mayor  's  a  noddy ; 

And  as  for  our  Corporation  —  shocking 


220  A   FIFTH   READER. 

To  think  we  buy  gowns  lined  with  ermine 
For  dolts  that  can't  or  won't  determine 
What's  best  to  rid  us  of  our  vermin! 
You  hope,  because  you  're  old  and  obese, 
To  find  in  the  furry  civic  robes  ease. 

Rouse  up,  sirs!     Give  your  brains  a  racking 
To  find  the  remedy  we  're  lacking, 
Or,  sure  as  fate,  we  '11  send  you  packing  I " 
At  this  the  Mayor  and  Corporation 
Quaked  with  a  mighty  consternation. 

An  hour  they  sate  in  council ; 

At  length  the  Mayor  broke  silence : 
"  For  a  guilder  I  'd  my  ermine  gown  sell ; 

I  wish  I  were  a  mile  hence! 
It's  easy  to  bid  one  rack  one's  brain  — 
I  'm  sure  my  poor  head  aches  again, 
I  've  scratched  it  so,  and  all  in  vain. 
Oh  for  a  trap,  a  trap,  a  trap !  " 
Just  as  he  said  this,  what  should  hap 
At  the  chamber  door  but  a  gentle  tap? 
"Bless  us,"  cried  the  Mayor,  "what's  that?" 
(With  the  Corporation  as  he  sat. 
Looking  little,  though  wondrous  fat; 
Nor  brighter  was  his  eye,  nor  moister 
Than  a  too-long-opened  oyster, 
Sr.ve  when  at  noon  his  paunch^  grew  mutinous' 
For  a  plate  of  turtle  green  and  glutinous,) 
"  Only  a  scraping  of  shoes  on  the  mat. 
Anything  like  the  sound  of  a  rat 
Makes  my  heart  go  pit-a-pat ! '' 

*  paunch,  stomach.  ^  mutinous,  rebellious. 


THE    PIED   PIPER   OF    HAMELIN.  2S1 

"  Come  in  !  "  the  Mayor  cried,  looking  bigger : 

And  in  did  come  the  strangest  figure ! 

His  queer  long  coat  from  heel  to  head 

Was  half  of  yellow  and  half  of  red; 

And  he  himself  was  tall  and  thin, 

With  sharp  blue  eyes,  each  like  a  pin, 

And  light  loose  hair,  yet  swarthy  skin, 

No  tuft  on  cheek,  nor  beard  on  chin, 

But  lips  where  smiles  went  out  and  in  — 

There  was  no  guessing  his  kith  and  kin  I 

And  nobody  could  enough  admire 

The  tall  man  and  his  quaint  attire : 

Quoth  one  :   "  It 's  as  my  great  grandsire, 

Starting  up  at  the  trump  of  doom's  tone, 

Had  walked  this  way  from  his  painted  tombstone." 

He  advanced  to  the  council  table, 

And,  "  Please,  your  honors,"  said  he,  "  I  'm  able, 

By  means  of  a  secret  charm,  to  draw 
All  creatures  living  beneath  the  sun, 
That  creep,  or  swim,  or  fly,  or  run, 

After  me  as  you  never  saw  I 
And  I  chiefly  use  my  charm 
On  creatures  that  do  people  harm, 
The  mole,  the  toad,  and  newt,  and  viper; 
And  people  call  me  the  Pied  Piper." 
(And  here  they  noticed  round  his  neck 

A  scarf  of  red  and  yellow  stripe, 
To  match  with  his  coat  of  the  self  same  check; 

And  at  the  scarf's  end  hung  a  pipe  ; 
And  his  fingers,  they  noticed,  were  ever  straying 
As  if  impatient  to  be  playing 


222  A   FIFTH    READER. 

Upon  this  pipe,  as  low  it  dangled 
Over  his  vesture  so  old  fangled.) 
"Yet,"  said  he,  "poor  piper  as  I  am, 
In  Tartary  I  freed  the  Chain,i 

Last  June,  from  his  Imge  swarm  of  gnats ; 
I  eased  in  Asia  the  Nizam '^^ 

Of  a  monstrous  brood  of  vampire  bats: 
And,  as  for  what  your  brain  bewildere. 

If  I  can  rid  your  town  of  rats, 
Will  you  give  me  a  thousand  guilders  ?  " 
"  One  ?  fifty  thousand  !  "  —  was  the  exclamation 
Of  the  astonished  Mayor  and  Corporation. 

Into  the  street  the  Piper  stept, 

Smiling  first  a  little  smile. 
As  if  he  knew  what  magic  slept 

In  his  quiet  pipe  the  while ; 
Then  like  a  musical  adept, 
To  blow  the  pipe  his  lips  he  wrinkled. 
And  green  and  blue  his  sharp  eyes  twinkled, 
Like  a  candle  flame  where  salt  is  sprinkled; 
And  ere  three  shrill  notes  the  pipe  uttered, 
You  heard  as  if  an  army  muttered  ; 
And  the  muttering  grew  into  a  grumbling ; 
And  the  grumbling  grew  to  a  mighty  rumbling, 
And  out  of  the  houses  the  rats  came  tumbling. 
Great  rats,  small  rats,  lean  rats,  brawny  rats. 
Brown  rats,  black  rats,  gray  rats,  tawny  rats, 
Grave  old  plodders,  gay  young  friskers, 

Fathera,  mothers,  uncles,  cousins, 

*  Cham,  chief  ruler  of  the  Tartars. 

2  Ni-zam'  (iie-zahm'),  chief  ruler  of  one  of  the  provinces  of  India. 


THE    PIED    PIPER    OF    HAMELIN.  ^23 


Cuiiing  tails  and  pricking  whiskers, 

Families  by  tens  and  dozens, 
Brothers,  sisters,  husbands,  wives  — 
Followed  the  Piper  for  their  lives. 
From  street  to  street  he  piped  advancing. 
And  step  for  step  they  followed,  dancing. 
Until  they  came  to  the  River  Weser, 

Wherein  all  plunged  and  perished 
Save  one,  who,  stout  as  Julius  Caisar, 

Swam  across  and  lived  to  carry 

(As  he  the  manuscript  he  cherished) 

To  Rat-land  home  his  commentary, 
Which  was,  "At  the  first  shrill  notes  of  the  pipe, 
I  heard  a  sound  as  of  scraping  tripe. 
And  putting  apples,  wondrous  ripe. 
Into  a  cider-press's  gripe: 
And  a  moving  away  of  pickle-tub-boards. 
And  a  leaving  ajar  of  conserve  cupboards. 
And  a  drawing  the  corks  of  train-oil-flasks. 
And  a  breaking  the  hoops  of  butter-casks; 
And  it  seemed  as  if  a  voice 

(Sweeter  far  than  by  harp  or  by  psaltery. 
Is  breathed)  called  out,  '  O  rats,  rejoice  ! 

The  world  is  grown  to  one  vast  drysaltery! 
To  munch  on,  crunch  on,  take  your  nuncheon,^ 
Breakfast,  dinner,  supper,  luncheon ! ' 
Just  as  a  bulky  sugar  puncheon. 
All  ready  staved,  like  a  great  sun  shone 
Glorious,  scarce  an  inch  before  me. 
Just  as  methought  it  said.  Come,  bore  me, — 
—  I  found  the  Weser  rolling  o'er  me." 
^  nun'cheon,  a  noon  lunch. 


224  A   FIFTH    READER. 


PART  II. 

YOU  should  have  heard  the  Hamelin  people 
Ringing  the  bells  till  they  rock'd  the  steeple; 
"  Go,"  cried  the  Mayor,  "  and  get  long  poles ! 
Poke  out  the  nests  and  block  up  the  holes  I 

Consult  with  carpenters  and  builders, 
And  leave  in  our  town  not  even  a  trace 
Of  the  rats ! "  —  when  suddenly  up  the  face 
Of  the  Piper  perked  in  the  market  place, 

With  a  "  First,  if  you  please,  my  thousand  guilders  I " 
A  thousand  guilders?    The  Mayor  looked  blue; 
So  did  the  Corporation  too. 
For  Council  dinners  made  rare  havoc 
With  Claret,  Moselle,  Vin-de-Grave,  Hock; 
And  half  the  money  would  replenish 
Their  cellar's  biggest  butt^  with  Rhenish.'^ 
To  pay  this  sum  to  a  wandering  fellow 
With  a  gypsy  coat  of  red  and  yellow  I 
"  Besides,"  quoth  the  Mayor,  with  a  knowing  wink, 
"  Our  business  was  done  at  the  river's  brink : 
We  saw  with  our  eyes  the  vermin  sink. 
And  what's  dead  can't  come  to  life,  I  think. 
So,  friend,  we  're  not  the  folks  to  shrink 
From  the  duty  of  giving  you  something  to  drink, 
And  a  matter  of  money  to  put  in  your  poke ; 
But,  as  for  guilders,  what  we  spoke 
Of  them,  as  you  very  well  know,  was  in  joke. 
Beside,  our  losses  have  made  us  thrifty ; 
A  thousand  guilders  I     Come,  take  fifty !  " 

*  butt,  a  large  cask.  *  Rhenish,  a  kind  of  wine. 


THE    PIED    PIPER    OF    HAMELIN.  225 

The  Piper's  face  fell,  and  he  cried, 

"  No  trifling  !     I  can't  wait ;  beside 

I  've  promised  to  visit  by  dinner  time 

Bagdad,  and  accept  the  prime 

Of  the  head  cook's  pottage,  all  he  's  rich  in, 

For  having  left,  in  the  Caliph's  ^  kitchen. 

Of  a  nest  of  scorpions  no  survivor. 

With  him  I  proved  no  bargain-driver; 

With  you,  do  n't  think  I  '11  bate  a  stiver  I 

And  folks  who  put  me  in  a  passion 

May  find  me  pipe  to  another  fashion." 

"  How  ?  "  cried  the  Mayor,  ''  d'  ye  think  I  '11  brook 

Being  worse  treated  than  a  cook  ? 

Insulted  by  a  lazy  ribald 

With  idle  pipe  and  vesture  piebald? 

You  threaten  us,  fellow?     Do  your  worst, 

Blow  your  pipe  there  till  you  burst  I " 

Once  more  he  stept  into  the  street; 

And  to  his  lips  again 

Laid  his  long  pipe  of  smooth  straight  cane; 
And  ere  he  blew  three  notes  (such  sweet 

Soft  notes  as  j^et  musician's  cunning 

Never  gave  the  enraptured  air) 
There  was  a  rustling  that  seemed  like  a  bustling 
Of  merry  crowds  justling  at  pitching  and  hustling; 
Small  feet  were  pattering,  wooden  shoes  clattering, 
Little  hands  clapping,  and  little  tongues  chattering, 
And,  like  fowls  in  a  farmyard  when  barley  is  scattering, 

Out  came  the  children  running. 

1  Caliph,  ruler  of  the  Mohammedans. 

16— OR  ^    ' 


226  A   FIFTH    READER. 


All  the  little  boys  and  girls, 

With  rosy  cheeks  and  flaxen  curls, 

And  sparkling  eyes  and  teeth  like  pearls. 

Tripping  and  skipping,  ran  merrily  after 

The  wonderful  music  with  shouting  and  laughter. 

The  Mayor  was  dumb,  and  the  Council  stood 

As  if  they  were  changed  into  blocks  of  wood, — 

Unable  to  move  a  step,  or  cry 

To  the  children  merrily  skipping  by,  — 

And  could  only  follow  with  the  eye 

That  joyous  crowd  at  the  Piper's  back. 

But  how  the  Mayor  was  on  the  rack. 

And  the  wretched  Council's  bosoms  beat, 

As  the  Piper  turned  from  the  High  Street 

To  where  the  Weser  rolled  its  waters 

Right  in  the  way  of  their  sons  and  daughters  I 

However,  he  turned  from  south  to  west, 

And  to  Koppelberg  Hill  his  steps  addressed, 

And  after  him  the  children  pressed ; 

Great  was  the  joy  in  every  breast. 

"  He  never  can  cross  the  mighty  top  I 

He  's  forced  to  let  the  piping  drop, 

And  we  shall  see  our  children  stop!" 
When  lo,  as  they  reached  the  mountain's  side, 
A  wondrous  portal  opened  wide, 
As  if  a  cavern  was  suddenly  hollowed ; 
And  the  Piper  advanced,  and  the  children  followed, 
And  when  all  were  in  to  the  very  last, 
The  door  in  the  mountain  side  shut  fast. 

Did  I  say  all?     No!   one  was  lame. 
And  could  not  dance  the  whole  of  the  way ; 

And  in  after  years,  if  you  would  blame 


THE    PIED    PIPER    OF    HAMELIN. 


227 


II.  Kaulbach. 


THE    PIED    PIPER   OF    HAMELIN. 


228  A   FIFTH    READER. 

His  sadness,  he  was  used  to  say  — 

"  It 's  dull  in  our  town  since  my  playmates  left ; 

I  can't  forget  that  I  'm  bereft 

Of  all  the  pleasant  sights  they  see, 

Which  the  Piper  also  promised  me; 

For  he  led  us,  he  said,  to  a  joyous  land, 

Joining  the  town  and  just  at  hand. 

Where  waters  gushed  and  fruit  trees  grew, 

And  flowers  put  forth  a  fairer  hue. 

And  everything  was  strange  and  new; 

The  sparrows  were  brighter  than  peacocks  here  . 

And  their  dogs  outran  our  fallow  deer. 

And  honeybees  had  lost  their  stings ; 

And  horses  were  born  with  eagle's  wings; 

And  just  as  I  became  assured 

My  lame  foot  would  be  speedily  cured, 

The  music  stopped,  and  I  stood  still. 

And  found  myself  outside  the  hill, 

Left  alone  against  my  will, 

To  go  now  limping  as  before. 

And  never  hear  of  that  country  more  I " 

Alas,  alas  for  Hamelin ! 
There  came  into  many  a  burgher's  pate 
A  text  which  says  that  Heaven's  gate 
Opes  to  the  rich  at  as  easy  rate 

As  che  needle's  eye  takes  a  camel  in ! 
The  Mayor  sent  east,  west,  north,  south, 
.  To  offer  the  Piper  by  word  of  mouth, 

Wherever  it  was  men's  lot  to  find  him, 
Silver  and  gold  to  his  heart's  content. 
If  he  'd  only  return  the  way  he  went. 

And  bring  the  children  behind  him. 


THE    PIED    PIPER    OF    HAMELIN.  229 

But  when  they  saw  'twas  a  lost  endeavor, 
And  Piper  and  dancers  were  gone  forever, 
They  made  a  decree  that  lawyers  never 

Should  think  their  records  dated  duly 
If,  after  the  day  of  the  month  and  year. 
These  words  did  not  always  appear, 
"And  so  long  after  what  happened  here 

On  the  twenty-second  of  July, 
Thirteen  hundred  and  seventy-six." 
And  the  better  in  memory  to  fix 
The  place  of  the  children's  last  retreat. 
They  called  it  the  Pied  Piper's  Street — 
Where  any  one  playing  on  pipe  or  tabor 
Was  sure  for  the  future  to  lose  his  labor. 
Nor  suffered  they  hostelry  or  tavern 

To  shock  with  mirth  a  street  so  solemn; 
But  opposite  the  place  of  the  cavern 

They  wrote  the  story  on  a  column, 
And  had  the  great  church  window  painted 
The  same  to  make  the  world  acquainted 
How  their  children  were  stolen  away;  . 
And  there  it  stands  to  this  very  day. 
In  Transylvania  there  is  a  tribe 
Of  alien  people  that  ascribe 
The  outlandish  ways  and  dress 
On  which  their  neighbors  lay  such  stress. 
To  their  fathers  and  mothers  having  risen 
Out  of  some  subterraneous  prison 
Into  which  they  were  trepanned 
Long  time  ago  in  a  mighty  band. 
Out  of  Hamelin  town  in  Brunswick  land ; 
But  how  or  why  they  don't  understand. 


230  A   FIFTH    READER. 


XLV.     DANIEL   DEFOE   AND   HIS   BOOKS. 

MANY  years  ago  (1661-1731),  in  England,  there  lived 
a  man  named  Daniel  Defoe,  who  wrote  stories  so 
real  that  many  people  believed  them  to  be  true.  Years  be- 
fore Defoe  lived,  there  had  occurred  in  the  city  of  London  a 
terrible  disease,  known  as  the  Plague,  through  which  many 
people  lost  their  lives ;  and  so  terrible  was  the  fear  of  it 
that  every  one  who  could,  left  the  city. 

Defoe  wrote  a  book  that  pretended  to  be  a  journal  written 
by  some  one  living  in  London  during  the  Plague.  It  told 
all  about  the  disease,  and  the  various  terrible  things  that 
happened,  in  such  a  way  that  people  believed  his  account  of 
it  to  be  a  true  record. 

Defoe  is  sometimes  called  the  first  English  novelist,  be- 
cause he  was  the  first  writer  who  wrote  stories  that  are 
really  like  the  novels  written  to-day.  He  wrote  one  book, 
of  which  everybody  has  heard,  and  which  many  of  you  boys 
and  girls  have  read.  Those  who  have  not  read  it,  should 
do  so.  This  book  is  called  "  Robinson  Crusoe." 
'  A  man  named  Alexander  Selkirk  was  once  put  ashore 
upon  an  island  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  at  his  own  request, 
and  lived  there  alone  for  several  years.  Defoe  is  supposed 
to  have  taken  this  man  as  the  hero  of  his  novel. 

A  poet,  William  Cowper,  the  same  one  who  wrote  "  The 
Nose  and  the  Eyes,"  which  you  have  already  read  in  this 
reader,  wrote  a  poem  about  Alexander  Selkirk,  in  which 
the  man  is  supposed  to  describe  his  own  feelings  upon  find- 
ing himself  alone  upon  a  desert  island.  It  is  given  here, 
and  you  can  see  if  you  think  you  would  have  such  feelings 


VERSES.  231 


as  it  describes  if  you  were  cast  away  as  he  was.  Following 
the  poem,  is  an  extract  from  "  Robinson  Crusoe."  In  the 
first  part  of  the  story  is  given  an  account  of  the  hero's 
early  life,  and  of  the  voyage  and  shipwreck.  The  extracts 
here  given  tell  how  Crusoe  was  saved  from  the  sea  after 
the  shipwreck,  how  he  made  himself  a  home  upon  the  island 
and  employed  his  time,  of  the  coming  of  his  man  Friday, 
and  his  final  rescue  by  an  English  vessel. 


XLVI.     VERSES. 

SUPPOSED   TO    15E    WRITTEN    BY    ALEXANDER   SELKIRK    DURING    HIS    SOLITARY 

abode  in  the  island  of  juan  fernandez. 
By   AVilliam   Cowper. 

I  AM  monarch  of  all  I  survey, 
My  right  there  is  none  to  dispute; 
From  the  center  all  round  to  the  sea, 
I  am  lord  of  the   fowl  and  the  brute. 

0  Solitude!  where  are  the  charms 
That  sages  have  seen  in  thy  face  ? 

Better  dwell  in  the  midst  of  alarms 
Than  reign  in  this  horrible  place. 

1  am  out  of  humanity's  reach, 

I  must  finish  my  journey  alone ; 
Never  hear  the  sweet  music  of  speech  — 

I  start  at  the  sound  of  my  own  ! 
The  beasts  that  roam  over  the  plain 

My  form  witli  indifference  see ; 
They  are  so  unacquainted  with  man. 

Their  tameness  is  shocking  to  me. 


S32  A   FIFTH   READER. 

Society,  friendship,  and  love. 

Divinely  bestow'd  upon  man, 
Oh,  had  I  the  wings  of  a  dove, 

How  soon  would  I  taste  you  again ! 
My  sorrows  I  then  might  assuage 

In  the  ways  of  religion  and  truth; 
Might  learn  from  the  wisdom  of  age. 

And  be  cheered  by  the  sallies  of  youth. 

Religion!  what  treasure  untold 

Resides  in  that  heavenly  word. 
More  precious  than  silver  and  gold, 

Or  all  that  this  earth  can  afford ! 
But  the  sound  of  the  church-going  bell 

These  valleys  and  rocks  never  heard ; 
Never  sighed  at  the  sound  of  a  knell, 

Or  smiled  when  a  Sabbath  appeared. 

Ye  winds,  that  have  made  me  your  sport, 

Convey  to  this  desolate  shore 
Some  cordial  endearing  report 

Of  a  land  I  shall  visit  no  more ! 
My  friends,  do  they  now  and  then  send 

A  wish  or  a  thought  after  me? 
Oh,  tell  me  I  yet  have  a  friend. 

Though  a  friend  I  am  never  to  see  I 

How  fleet  is  a  glance  of  the  mind ! 

Compared  with  the   speed  of  its  flight, 
The  tempest  itself  lags  behind. 

And  the  swift- winged  arrows  of  light. 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  233 

When  I  think  of  my  own  native  land, 

In  a  moment  I  seem  to  be  there ; 
But  alas !  recollection  at  hand 

Soon  hurries  me   back  to  despair. 

But  the  sea  fowl  has  gone  to  her  nest, 

The  beast  is  laid  down  in  his  laic ; 
Even  here  is  a  season  of  rest, 

And  I  to  my  cabin  repair. 
There 's  mercy  in  every  place  ; 

And  mercy  —  encouraging  thought !  - 
Gives  even  affliction  a  grace, 

And  reconciles  man  to  his  lot. 


XLVII.     ROBINSON   CRUSOE. 

By   Daniel   Defoe. 


NOTHING  can  describe  the  confusion  of  thought  which 
I  felt  when  I  sunk  into  the  water;  for  though  I 
swam  very  well,  yet  I  could  not  deliver  myself  from  the 
waves  so  as  to  draw  breath,  till  that  wave  having  driven  me, 
or  rather  carried  me,  a  vast  way  on  towards  the  shore,  and 
having  spent  itself,  went  back,  and  left  me  upon  the  land, 
almost  dry,  but  half  dead  with  the  water  I  took  in.  I  had 
so  much  presence  of  mind,  as  well  as  breath,  left,  that,  seeing 
myself  nearer  the  main  land  than  I  expected,  I  got  upon  my 
feet,  and  endeavored  to  make  on  towards  the  land  as  fast  as 
I  could  before  another  wave  should  return  and  take  me  up 
again  ;  but  I  soon  found  it  was  impossible  to  avoid  it,  for  I 
saw  the  sea  coming  after  me  as  high  as  a  great  hill,  and  as 


234  A   FIFTH    READER. 

furious  as  an  enemy,  which  I  had  no  means  or  strength  to 
contend  with.  My  business  was  to  hold  my  breath  and  raise 
myself  upon  the  water,  if  I  could ;  and  so,  by  swimming,  to 
preserve  my  breathing  and  pilot  myself  towards  the  shore, 
if  possible  ;  my  greatest  concern  now  being,  that  the  sea,  as 
it  would  cany  me  a  great  way  towards  the  shore  when  it 
came  on,  might  not  carry  me  back  again  with  it  when  it 
gave  back  towards  the  sea. 

The  wave  that  came  upon  me  again,  buried  me  at  once 
twenty  or  thirty  feet  deep  in  its  own  body,  and  I  could  feel 
myself  carried  with  a  mighty  force  and  swiftness  towards 
the  shore  a  very  great  way;  but  I  held  my  breath,  and 
assisted  myself  to  swim  still  forward  with  all  my  might.  I 
was  ready  to  burst  with  holding  my  breath,  when  as  I  felt 
myself  rising  up,  so  to  my  immediate  relief,  I  found  my 
head  and  hands  shoot  out  above  the  surface  of  the  water ; 
and  though  it  was  not  two  seconds  of  time  that  I  could  keep 
myself  so,  yet  it  relieved  me  greatly,  gave  me  breath  and 
new  courage.  I  was  covered  again  with  water  a  good  while  ; 
but  not  so  long  but  I  held  it  out;  and  finding  tlie  water  had 
spent  itself  and  began  to  return,  I  stroock  forward  against 
the  return  of  the  waves,  and  felt  ground  again  with  my  feet, 
I  stood  still  a  few  moments,  to  recover  breath,  and  till  the 
water  went  from  me,  and  then  took  to  my  heels  and  ran 
with  what  strength  I  had  farther  towards  the  shore.  But 
neither  would  this  deliver  me  from  the  fury  of  the  sea,  which 
came  pouring  in  after  me  again ;  and  twice  more  I  was  lifted 
up  by  the  waves  and  carried  forwards  as  before,  the  shore 
being  veiy  flat. 

The  last  time  of  these  two  had  well  nigh  l)een  fatal  to  me; 
for  the  sea  having  hurried  me  along,  as  l:)efore,  landed  me,  or 
rather  daslied  me,  against  a  piece  of  a  rock  and  that  with  such 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  235 

force,  as  it  left  me  senseless,  and  indeed  helpless,  as  to  my  own 
deliverance ;  for  the  blow  taking  my  side  and  breath,  beat 
the  breath,  as  it  were,  quite  out  of  my  body;  and  had  it 
returned  again  immediately,  I  must  have  been  strangled  in 
the  water ;  but  I  recovered  a  little  before  the  return  of  the 
waves,  and  seeing  I  should  be  covered  again  with  the  water, 
I  resolved  to  hold  fast  by  a  piece  of  the  rock,  and  so  to  hold 
my  breath,  if  possible,  till  the  wave  went  back.  Now,  as 
the  waves  were  not  so  high  as  at  first,  being  nearer  land,  I 
held  my  hold  till  the  wave  abated,  and  then  fetched  another 
run,  which  brought  me  so  near  the  shore,  that  the  next  wave, 
though  it  went  over  me,  yet  did  not  so  swallow  me  up  as 
to  carry  me  away ;  and  the  next  run  I  took,  I  got  to  the 
main  land ;  where,  to  my  great  comfort  I  clambered  up 
the  cliffs  of  the  shore,  and  sat  me  down  upon  the  grass, 
free  from  danger,  and  quite  out  of  the  reach  of  the  water. 

I  was  now  landed,  and  safe  on  shore,  and  began  to  look 
up  and  thank  God  that  my  life  was  saved,  in  a  case  wherein 
there  was,  some  minutes  before,  scarce  any  room  to  hope.  I 
believe  it  impossible  to  express,  to  the  life,  what  the  ecsta- 
sies 1  and  transports  ^  of  the  soul  are  when  it  is  so  saved,  as 
I  may  say,  out  of  the  very  grave ;  and  I  do  not  wonder 
now  at  the  custom,  that  when  a  malefactor,  who  has  the  hal- 
ter about  his  neck,  is  tied  up,  and  just  going  to  be  turned 
off,  and  has  a  reprieve  brought  to  him ;  I  say,  I  do  not  won- 
der that  they  bring  a  surgeon  with  it,  to  let  his  blood  that 
very  moment  they  tell  him  of  it,  that  the  surprise  may  not 
drive  the  animal  spirits  from  the  heart,  and  overwhelm  him. 

"For  sudden  joys,  like  griefs,  confound  at  first." 

I  walked  about  on  the  shore,  lifting  up  my  hands,  and 
my  whole  being,  as  I   may  say,   wrapt   up   in   a   contem- 
1  ec'sta-sies,  great  joys.      2  trans'ports,  violent  pleasures. 


236  A   FIFTH   READER. 

plation  of  my  deliverance;  making  a  thousand  gestures 
and  motions,  which  I  cannot  describe ;  reflecting  upon  all 
my  comrades  that  were  drowned,  and  that  there  should 
not  be  one  soul  saved  but  myself;  for,  as  for  them,  I 
never  saw  them  afterwards,  or  any  sign  of  them  except 
three  of  their  hats,  one  cap,  and  two  shoes  that  were  not 
fellows. 

I  cast  my  eyes  to  the  stranded  vessel,  when,  the  breach 
and  froth  of  the  sea  being  so  big,  I  could  hardly  see  it,  it 
lay  so  far  off ;  and  considered,  Lord !  how  was  it  possible  I 
could  get  on  shore  ?  - 

After  I  had  solaced  my  mind  with  the  comfortable  part 
of  my  condition,  I  began  to  look  round  me,  to  see  what 
kind  of  place  I  was  in,  and  what  was  next  to  be  done ;  and 
I  soon  found  my  comforts  abate,  and  that,  in  a  word,  I  had 
a  dreadful  deliverance :  for  I  was  wet,  and  had  no  clothes 
to  shift  me,  nor  anything  either  to  eat  or  drink,  to  comfort 
me;  neither  did  I  see  any  p£Ospect  before  me  but  that  of 
perishing  with  hunger,  or  being  devoured  by  wild  beasts ;  and 
thai  .which  was  particularly  afflicting  to  me  was,  that  I  had 
'no  Ifeapon,  either  to  hunt  and  kill  any  creature  for  my  sus- 
tenaBce,  or  to  defend  myself  against  any  other  creature  that 
might  desire  to  kill  me  for  theirs.  In  a  word,  I  had  nothing 
about  me  but  a  knife,  a  tobacco  pipe,  and  a  little  tobacco  in 
a  bo^.  This  was  all  my  provision ;  and  this  threw  me  into 
terrible  agpnies_of  mind,  that  for  a  while  I  ran  about  like 
a  madman.  Night  coming  upon  me,  I  began,  with  a  heavy 
heart,  to  consider  what  would  be  my  lot  if  there  were  any 
ravenous  beasts  in  that  country,  seeing  at  night  they  always 
come  abroad  for  their  prey. 

All  the  remedy  that  offered  to  my  thoughts,  at  that  time, 
was  to  get  up  into  a  thick  bushy  tree,  like  a  fir,  but  thorny, 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  237 

which  grew  near  me,  and  where  I  resolved  to  sit  all  night, 
and  consider  the  next  day  what  death  I  should  die,  for  as 
yet  I  saw  no  prospect  of  life.  I  walked  about  a  fuilong 
from  the  shore,  to  see  if  I  could  find  any  fresh  water  to 
drink,  which  I  did  to  my  great  joy ;  and  having  drank,  and 
put  a  little  tobacco  in  my  mouth  to  prevent  hunger,  I  went 
to  the  tree,  and,  getting  up  into  it,  endeavorad  to  place 
myself  so  as  that  if  I  should  sleep  I  might  not  fall.  And 
having  cut  me  a  short  stick,  like  a  truncheon,  for  my 
defense,  I  took  up  my  lodging  ;  and  having  been  excessively 
fatigued,  I  fell  fast  asleep,  and  slept  as  comfortably  as,.  I 
believe,  few  could  have  done  in  my  condition. 

When  I  waked  it  was  broad  day,  the  weather  clear,  and 
the  storm  abated,  so  that  the  sea  did  not  rage  and  swell  as 
before ;  but  that  which  surprised  me  most  was,  that  the 
ship  was  lifted  off  in  the  night  from  the  sand  where  she 
lay,  by  the  swelling  of  the  tide,  and  was  driven  up  almost  as 
far  as  the  rock  which  I  first  mentioned,  where  I  had  been 
so  bruised  by  the  wave  dashing  me  against  it.  This  being 
within  about  a  mile  from  the  shore  where  I  was  and  the 
ship,  seeming  to  stand  upright  still,  I  wished  myself  on 
board,  that  at  least  I  might  save  some  necessary  things  for 
my  use. 

When  I  came  down  from  my  apartment  in  the  tree,  I 
looked  about  me  again,  and  the  first  thing  I  found  was  the 
boat,  which  lay  as  the  wind  and  sea  had  tossed  her  up  upon 
the  land,  about  two  miles  on  my  right  hand.  I  walked  as 
far  as  I  could  upon  the  shore  to  have  got  to  her ;  but  found 
a  neck,  or  inlet,  of  water  between  me  and  the  boat  which 
was  about  half  a  mile  broad ;  so  I  came  back  for  the 
present,  being  more  intent  upon  getting  at  the  ship,  where 
I  hoped  to  find  something  for  my  present  subsistence. 


238  A  FIFTH   READER. 


A  little  after  noon,  I  found  the  sea  very  calm,  and  the  tide 
ebl)ed  so  far  out,  that  I  could  come  within  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  of  the  ship.  And  here  I  found  a  fresh  renewing  of  my 
grief;  for  I  saw  evidently,  that  if  we  had  kept  on  board, 
we  had  been  all  safe :  that  is  to,  say,  we  had  all  got  safe  on 
shore,  and  I  had  not  been  so  miserable  as  to  be  left  entirely 
'destitute  of  all  comfort  and  company,  as  I  now  was.  This 
forced  tears  to  my  eyes  again ;  but  as  there  was  little  relief 
in  that,  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  get  to  the  ship;  so  I 
pulled  off  my  clothes,  for  the  weather  was  hot  to  extremity, 
and  took  the  w^ater.  But  when  I  came  to  the  ship,  my 
difficulty  was  still  greater  to  know  how  to  get  on  board ;  for 
as  she  lay  aground,  and  high  out  of  the  water,  there  was 
nothing  within  my  reach  to  lay  hold  of.  I  swam  around 
her  twice,  and  the  second  time  I  spied  a  small  piece  of  rope, 
which  I  wondered  I  did  not  see  at  first,  hang  down  by  the 
forechains  so  low,  as  that  with  great  difficulty  I  got  hold  of 
it,  and,  by  the  help  of  that  rope,  got  up  into  the  forecastle  of 
the  ship.  Here  I  found  that  the  ship  was  bulged,  and  had 
a  great  deal  of  water  in  her  hold  ;  but  that  she  lay  so  on  the 
side  of  a  bank  of  hard  sand,  or  rather  earth,  that  her  stern 
lay  lifted  up  upon  the  bank,  and  her  head  low,  almost  to 
the  water.  By  this  means  all  her  quarter  was  free,  and  all 
that  was  in  that  part  was  dry ;  for  you  may  be  sure  my  first 
work  was  to  search  and  to  see  what  was  spoiled  and  what 
was  free.  And,  first,  I  found  that  all  the  ship's  provisions 
were  dry  and  untouched  by  the  water,  and  being  very  well 
disposed  to  eat,  I  went  to  the  bread-room,  and  filled  my 
pockets  with  biscuit,  and  ate  it  as  I  went  about  other 
things,  for  I  had  no  time  to  lose.  Now  T  wanted  nothing 
but  a  boat,  to  furnish  myself  with  many  things  which  I 
foresaw  would  be  very  necessary  to  mc. 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  239 

II. 

IT  was  in  vain  to  sit  still  and  wish  for  what  was  not  to  be 
had;  and  this  extremity  roused  my  application.  Ws 
had  several  spare  yards,  and  two  or  three  large  spars  of 
wood,  and  a  spare  topmast  or  two  in  the  ship :  I  resolved 
to  fall  to  work  with  these,  and  I  flung  as  many  of  them  over- 
board as  I  could  manage  for  their  weight,  tying  every  one 
with  a  rope  that  they  might  not  drive  away.  When  this 
was  done,  I  went  down  the  ship's  side,  and  pulling  them  to 
me,  I  tied  four  of  them  together  at  both  ends  as  well  as  I 
could,  in  the  form  of  a  raft,  and  laying  two  or  three  short 
pieces  of  plank  upon  them  crossways,  I  found  I  could  walk 
upon  it  very  well,  but  that  it  was  not  able  to  bear  any  great 
weight.  So  I  went  to  work,  and  with  the  carpenter's  saw 
I  cut  a  spare  topmast  into  three  lengths,  and  added  them 
to  my  raft,  with  a  great  deal  of  labor  and  pains. 

My  raft  was  now  strong  enough  to  bear  any  reasonable 
weight.  My  next  care  was  what  to  load  it  Avith,  and  how 
to  preserve  what  I  laid  upon  it  from  the  surf  of  the  sea : 
but  I  was  not  long  considering  this.  I  first  laid  all  thef 
plank  or  boards  upon  it  that  I  could  get,  and  having  con- 
sidered well  what  I  most  wanted,  I  first  got  three  of  the 
seamen's  chests,  which  I  had  broken  open  and  emptied,  and 
lowered  them  down  upon  my  raft ;  the  first  of  these  I  filled 
with  provisions,  viz. ;  bread,  rice,  three  Dutch  cheeses,  five 
pieces  of  dried  goat's  flesh  (which  we  lived  much  upon), 
and  a  little  remainder  of  European  corn,  which  had  been 
laid  by  for  some  fowls  which  we  brought  to  sea  with  us, 
but  the  fowls  were  killed.  There  had  been  some  barley 
and  wheat  together;  but  to  my  great  disappointment,  I 
found  afterwards  that  the  rats  had  eaten  and  spoiled  it  all. 


240  A    FIFTH    READER. 


As  for  liquors,  I  found  several  cases  of  bottles  belonging  to 
our  skipper,^  in  which  were  some  cordial  waters;  and,  in 
all,  about  five  or  six  gallons  of  rack.^  These  I  stowed  by 
themselves,  there  being  no  need  to  put  them  into  the  chest, 
nor  any  room  for  them.  While  I  was  doing  this,  I  found, 
the  tide  began  to  flow,  though  very  calm ;  and  I  had  .the 
mortification  to  see  my  coat,  shirt,  and  waistcoat  which  I 
had  left  on  the  shore,  upon  the  sand,  swim  away.  As  for 
breeches,  which  were  only  linen,  and  open-kneed,  I  swam 
on  board  in  them  and  my  stockings..  However,  this  put  me 
upon  rummaging  for  clothes,  of  which  I  found  enough,  but 
took  no  njore  than  I  wanted  for  present  use,  for  I  had  other 
things  which  my  eye  was  more  upon ;  as,  first,  tools  to 
work  with  on  shore.  And  it  was  after  lohg  searching 
that  I  found  out  the  carpenter's  chest,  which  was  indeed,  a 
very  useful  prize  to  me,  and  much  more  valuable  than  a 
ship  loading  of  gold  would  have  been  at  that  time.  I  got  it 
down  to  my  raft,  even  whole  as  it  was,  without  losing  time 
to  look  into  it,  for  I  knew  in  general  what  it  contained. 

My  next  care  was  for  some  ammunition  and  arms.  There 
were  two  very  good  fowling-pieces  in  the  great  cabin,  and 
two  pistols.  These  I  secured  first,  with  some  powderhorns 
and  a  small  bag  of  shot,  and  two  old  rusty  swords.  I  knew 
there  were  three  barrels  of  powder  in  the  ship,  but  knew  not 
where  our  gunner  had  stowed  them ;  but  with  much  search 
I  found  them,  two  of  them  dry  and  good,  the  third  had 
taken  water.  Those  two  I  got  to  my  raft,  with  the  arms. 
And  now  I  thought  myself  pretty  well  freighted,  and  began 
to  think  how  I  should  get  to  shore  with  them,  having  neither 
sail,  oar,  nor  rudder;  and  the  least  capful  of  wind  would 
have  overset  all  my  navigation. 

>  sklp'per,  captain  of  a  vessel.  2  rack,  an  alcoholic  liquor. 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE. 


241 


to  the  shore ; 


I  had   three  encourage- 
ments :     first,    a    smooth, 
calm    sea;     secondly,   the 
tide  rising,  and  setting  in 
thirdly,  what  little  wind 
^  .  '     there  was    blew    me   towards   the   land. 

And  thus,  having  found  two  or  three 
broken  oars  belonging  to  the  boat,  and  besides  the  tools 
which  were  in  the  chest,  I  found  two  saws,  an  ax,  and  a 
hammer,  and  with  this  cargo  I  put  to  sea.  For  a  mile  or 
thereabouts,  my  raft  went  very  well,  only  that  I  found  it 
drive  a  little  distant  from  the  place  where  I  had  landed  be- 
fore ;  by  which  I  perceived  that  there  was  some  indraft  of 

17 — 5r 


242  A   FIFTH   READER. 

the  water,  and  consequently,  I  hoped  to  find  some  creek  or 
river  there,  which  I  might  make  use  of  as  a  port  to  get  to 
land  with  my  cargo. 

As  I  imagined,  so  it  was.  There  appeared  before  me  a  lit- 
'  tie  opening  of  the  land,  and  I  found  a  strong  current  of  the 
tide  set  into  it ;  so  I  guided  my  raft,  as  well  as  I  could,  to 
keep  in  the  middle  of  the  stream. 

But  here  I  had  like  to  have  suffered  a  second  shipwreck ; 
which,  if  I  had,  I  think,  verily,  would  have  broken  my  heart; 
for,  knowing  nothing  of  the  coast,  my  raft  ran  aground  at  one 
end  of  it  upon  a  shoal,  and  not  being  aground  at  the  other  end, 
it  wanted  but  a  little  that  all  my  cargo  had  slipped  off  towards 
the  end  that  was  afloat,  and  so  fallen  into  the  water.  I  did 
my  utmost,  by  setting  my  back  against  the  chests,  to  keep 
them  in  their  places,  but  could  not  thrust  off  the  raft  with 
all  my  strength  ;  neither  durst  I  stir  from  the  posture  I  was 
in ;  but  holding  up  the  chests  with  all  my  might,  I  stood  in 
that  manner  near  half  an  hour,  in  which  time  the  rising  of 
the  water  brought  me  a  little  more  upon  a  level ;  and,  a  lit- 
tle after,  the  water  still  rising,  my  raft  floated  again,  and  I 
thrust  her  off  with  the  oar  I  had  into  the  channel,  and  then 
driving  up  higher,  I  at  length  found  myself  in  the  mouth  of 
a  little  river,  with  land  on  both  sides,  and  a  strong  current 
or  tide  running  up.  I  looked  on  both  sides  for  a  proper 
place  to  get  to  shore,  for  I  was  not  willing  to  be  driven  too 
high  up  the  river ;  hoping,  in  time,  to  see  some  ship  at  sea, 
and  therefore  resolved  to  place  myself  as  near  the  coast  as  I 
could. 

At  length  I  spied  a  little  cove  on  the  right  shore  of  the 
creek,  to  which,  with  great  pain  and  difficulty,  I  guided  my 
raft,  and  at  last  got  so  near,  that  reaching  ground  with  my 
oar,  I  could  thrust  her  directly  in.     But  here  I  had  like  to 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  243 

have  dipped  all  my  cargo  into  the  sea  again,  for  that  shore 
lying  pretty  steep,  —  that  is  to  say,  sloping,  —  there  was  no 
place  to  land,  but  where  one  end  of  my  float,  if  it  ran  on 
shore,  would  lie  so  high,  and  the  other  sink  lower,  as  before, 
that  it  would  endanger  my  cargo  again.  All  that  I  could 
do,  was  to  wait  till  the  tide  was  at  the  highest,  keeping  the 
raft  with  my  oar  like  an  anchor,  to  hold  the  side  of  it  fast  to 
the  shore,  near  a  flat  piece  of  ground,  which  I  expected  the 
water  would  flow  over ;  and  so  it  did.  As  soon  as  I  found 
water  enough,  for  my  raft  drew  about  a  foot  of  water,  I 
thrust  her  upon  that  flat  piece  of  ground,  and  there  fastened 
or  moored  her,  by  sticking  my  two  broken  oars  into  the 
ground, — one  on  one  side  near  one  end,  and  one  on  the 
other  side  near  the  other  end ;  and  thus  I  lay  till  the  water 
ebbed  away,  and  left  my  raft  and  cargo  safe  on  shore. 

My  next  work  was  to  view  the  country,  and  seek  a  proper 
place  for  my  habitation,  and  where  to  stow  my  goods,  to 
secure  them  from  whatever  might  happen.  Where  I  was,  I 
yet  knew  not ;  whether  on  the  continent  or  an  island ; 
whether  inhabited  or  not  inhabited ;  whether  in  danger  of 
wild  beasts  or  not.  There  was  a  hill  not  above  a  mile  from 
me,  which  rose  up  very  steep  and  high,  and  which  seemed  to 
overtop  some  other  hills,  which  lay  as  in  a  ridge  from  it, 
northward.  I  took  out  one  of  the  fowling-pieces  and  one  of 
the  pistols,  and  a  horn  of  powder ;  and  thus  armed,  I  trav- 
eled for  discovery  up  to  the  top  of  that  hill,  where,  after  I 
had  with  great  labor  and  difficulty  got  to  the  top,  I  saw  my 
fate,  to  my  great  affliction,  viz. :  that  I  was  in  an  island 
environed  every  way  with  the  sea ;  no  land  to  be  seen 
except  some  rocks,  which  lay  a  great  way  off ;  and  two  small 
islands  less  than  this,  which  lay  about  three  leagues  to  the 
west. 


244  A   FIFTH   READER. 

I  found  also  that  the  island  I  was  in  was  barren,  and  as  I 
saw  good  reason  to  believe,  uninhabited  except  by  wild 
beasts,  of  whom,  however,  I  saw  none.  Yet  I  saw  abun- 
dance of  fowls,  but  knew  not  their  kinds,  neither,  when  I 
killed  them,  could  I  tell  what  was  fit  for  food,  and  what  not. 
At  my  coming  back,  I  shot  at  a  great  bird,  which  I  saw  sit- 
ting upon  a  tree,  on  the  side  of  a  great  wood.  I  believe  it 
was  the  first  gun  that  had  been  fired  there  since  the  creation 
of  the  world.  I  had  no  sooner  fired,  but  from  all  the  parts 
of  the  wood  there  arose  an  innumerable  number  of  fowls  of 
many  sorts,  making  a  confused  screaming  and  crying, 
every  one  according  to  his  usual  note,  but  not  one  of  them 
of  any  kind  that  I  knew.  As  for  the  creature  I  killed,  I 
took  it  to  be  a  kind  of  a  hawk,  its  color  and  beak  resembling 
it,  but  it  had  no  talons  or  claws  more  than  common.  Its 
flesh  Avas  carrion,  and  fit  for  nothing. 

Contented  with  this  discovery,  I  came  back  to  my  raft,  and 
fell  to  work  to  bring  my  cargo  on  shore,  which  took  me  up  the 
rest  of  that  day ;  what  to  do  with  myself  at  night  I  knew 
not,  nor  indeed  where  to  rest,  for  I  was  afraid  to  lie  down  on 
the  ground,  not  knowing  but  some  wild  beast  might  dexQur 
me,  though,  as  I  afterwards  found,  there  was  really  no  need 
for  those  fears. 

However,  as  well  as  I  could,  I  barricaded  myself  round 
with  the  chests  and  boards  that  I  had  brought  on  shore,  and 
made  a  kind  of  hut  for  that  night's  lodging.  As  for  food,  T 
yet  saw  not  which  way  to  supply  myself,  except  that  I  had 
seen  two  or  three  creatures,  like  hares,  run  out  of  the  wood 
where  I  shot  the  fowl. 


■^ 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  345 


III. 

I  NOW  began  to  consider  that  I  might  yet  get  a  great 
many  things  out  of  the  ship,  which  would  be  useful  to 
me,  and  particularly  some  of  the  rigging  and  sails,  and  such 
other  things  as  might  come  to  land ;  and  I  resolved  to 
make  another  voyage  on  board  the  vessel  if  possible.  And 
as  I  knew  that  the  first  storm  that  blew  must  necessarily 
break  her  all  in  pieces,  I  resolved  to  set  all  things  apart, 
till  I  had  got  everything  out  of  the  ship  that  I  could  get. 
Then  I  called  a  council  —  that  is  to  say,  in  my  thoughts  — 
whether  I  should  take  back  the  raft ;  but  this  appeared 
impracticable ;  ^  so  I  resolved  to  go  as  before,  when  the 
tide  was  down,  and  I  did  so,  only  that  I  stripped  before  I 
went  from  my  hut,  having  nothing  on  but  a  checkered 
shirt,  a  pair  of  linen  drawers,  and  a  pair  of  pumps  on  my 
feet. 

I  got  on  board  the  ship  as  before,  and  prepared  a  second 
raft ;  and  having  had  experience  of  the  first,  I  neither 
made  this  so  unwieldy,  nor  loaded  it  so  hard ;  but  yet  I 
brought  away  several  things  very  useful  to  me;  as,  first, 
in  the  carpenter's  stores,  I  found  two  or  three  bags  full  of 
nails  and  spikes,  a  great  screw-jack,  a  dozen  or  two  of 
hatchets,  and,  above  all,  that  most  useful  thing  called  a 
grindstone.  All  these  I  secured,  together  with  several 
things  belonging  to  the  gunner,  particularly  two  or  three 
iron  crows,  and  two  barrels  of  musket  bullets,  seven  mus- 
kets, and  another  fowling-piece,  with  some  small  quantity 
of  powder  more ;  a  large  bag  full  of  small  shot,  and  a  great 
roll  of  sheet-lead ;  but  this  last  was  so  heavy  I  could  not 
hoist  it  up  to  get  it  over  the  ship's  side. 

^  im-prac'ti-ca-ble,  that  could  not  be  done. 


246  A   FIFTH    READER. 

Besides  these  things,  I  took  all  the  men's  clothes  that  I 
could  find,  and  a  spare  fore-topsail,  .a  hammock,  and  some 
bedding ;  and  Avith  this  I  loaded  my  second  raft,  and 
brought  them  all  safe  on  shore,  to  my  very  great  comfort. 

I  was  under  some  apprehension, ^  during  my  absence  from 
the  land,  that  at  least  my  provisions  might  be  devoured  on 
shore :  but  when  I  came  back,  I  found  no  sign  of  any  visi- 
tor ;  only  there  sat  a  creature  like  a  wild  cat,  upon  one  of 
the  chests,  which,  when  I  came  towards  it,  ran  away  a  little 
distance,  and  then  stood  still.  She  sat  very  composed  and 
unconcerned,  and  looked  full  in  my  face,  as  if  she  had  a 
mind  to  be  acquainted  with  me.  I  presented  my  gun  to 
her,  but  as  she  did  not  understand  it,  she  was  perfectly  un- 
concerned at  it,  nor  did  she  offer  to  stir  away ;  upon  which 
I  tossed  her  a  bit  of  biscuit,  though,  by  the  way,  I  was  not 
very  free  of  it,  for  my  store  was  not  great:  however,  I 
spared  her  a  bit,  I  say,  and  she  went  to  it,  smelled  of  it, 
and  ate  it,  and  looked  (as  if  pleased)  for  more  ;  but  I 
thanked  her,  and  could  spare  no  more  :  so  she  marched  off. 

Having  got  my  second  cargo  on  shore,  —  though  I  was 
obliged  to  open  the  barrels  of  powder,  and  bring  them  by 
parcels,  for  they  were  too  heavy,  being  large  casks,  —  I 
went  to  work  to  make  me  a  little  tent,  with  the  sail,  and 
some  poles  which  I  cut  for  that  purpose  :  and  into  this  tent 
I  brought  everything  that  I  knew  would  spoil  either  with 
rain  or  sun ;  and  I  piled  all  the  empty  chests  and  casks  up 
in  a  circle  round  the  tent,  to  fortify  it  from  any  sudden 
attempt,  either  from  man  or  beast. 

When  I  had  done  this,  I  blocked  up  the  door  of  the  tent 
with  some  boards  within,  and  an  empty  chest  set  up  on  end 
without ;  and  spreading  one  of  the  beds  upon  the  ground, 
1  ap-pre-hen'sion,  fear. 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  247 

laying  my  two  pistols  just  at  my  head,  and  my  gun  at 
length  by  me,  I  went  to  bed  for  the  first  time,  and  slept 
very  quietly  all  night,  for  I  was  very  weary  and  heavy ; 
for  the  night  before  I  had  slept  little,  and  had  labored  very 
hard  all  day,  to  fetch  all  those  things  from  the  ship,  and  to 
get  them  on  shore. 

I  had  the  biggest  magazine  ^  of  all  kinds  now  that  ever  was 
laid  up,  I  believe,  for  one  man;  but  I  was  not  satisfied 
still,  for  while  the  ship  sat  upright  in  that  posture,  I  thought 
I  ought  to  get  everything  out  of  her  that  I  could :  so  every 
day,  at  low  tide,  I  went  on  board,  and  brought  away  some- 
thing or  other;  but  particularly  the  third  time  I  went,  I 
brought  away  as  much  of  the  rigging  as  I  could,  as  also  all 
the  small  ropes  and  rope  twine  I  could  get,  with  a  piece  of 
spare  canvas,  which  was  to  mend  the  sails  upon  occasion, 
and  the  barrel  of  wet  gunpowder.  In  a  word,  I  brought 
away  all  the  sails  first  and  last ;  only  that  I  was  obliged  to 
cut  them  in  pieces,  and  bring  as  much  at  a  time  as  I  could, 
for  they  were  no  more  useful  to  be  sails,  but  as  mere 
canvas  only. 

But  that  which  comforted  me  more  still,  was,  that  last 
of  all,  after  I  had  made  five  or  six  such  voyages  as  these, 
and  thought  I  had  nothing  more  to  expect  from  the  ship 
that  was  worthy  my  meddling  with ;  —  I  say,  after  all  this, 
I  found  a  great  hogshead  of  bread,  three  large  runlets  of 
rum,  or  spirits,  and  a  box  of  sugar,  and  a  barrel  of  fine 
flour :  this  was  surprising  to  me,  because  I  had  given  over 
expecting  any  more  provisions,  except  what  was  spoiled  by 
the  water.  I  soon  emptied  the  hogshead  of  the  bread,  and 
wrapped  it  up,  parcel  by  parcel,  in  pieces  of  the  sails  which 
I  cut  out ;  and,  in  a  word,  I  got  all  this  safe  on  shore  also. 
1  mag-a-zine'  (-zeen),  a  store-house. 


248  A   FIFTH   READER. 


The  next  day  I  made  another  voyage,  and  now,  having 
plundered  the  ship  of  what  was  portable  and  fit  to  hand  out, 
I  began  with  the  cables  ;  cutting  the  great  cable  into  pieces 
such  as  I  could  move,  I  got  two  cables  and  a  hawser  on 
shore,  with  all  the  iron  work  I  could  get ;  and  having  cut 
down  the  spritsail  yard,  and  the  mizzen  yard,  and  every- 
thing I  could,  to  make  a  large  raft,  I  loaded  it  with  all 
these  heavy  goods,  and  came  away;  but  my  good  luck 
began  now  to  leave  me  ;  for  this  raft  was  so  unwieldy,  and 
so  overladen,  that  after  I  was  entered  the  little  cove,  where 
I  had  landed  the  rest  of  my  goods,  not  being  able  to  guide 
it  so  handily  as  I  did  the  other,  it  overset,  and  threw  me 
and  all  my  cargo  into  the  water ;  as  for  myself,  it  was  no 
great  harm,  for  I  was  near  the  shore ;  but  as  to  my  cargo,  it 
was  a  great  part  of  it  lost,  especially  the  iron,  which  I  ex- 
pected would  have  been  of  great  use  to  me.  However, 
when  the  tide  was  out,  I  got  most  of  the  pieces  of  cable 
ashore,  and  some  of  the  iron,  though  with  infinite  labor ; 
for  I  had  to  dip  for  it  into  the  water,  a  work  which  fatigued 
me  very  much.  After  this,  I  went  every  day  on  board,  and 
brought  away  what  I  could  get. 

I  had  been  now  thirteen  days  on  shore,  and  had  been 
eleven  times  on  board  the  ship,  in  which  time  I  had  brought 
away  all  that  one  pair  of  hands  could  well  be  supposed 
capable  to  bring;  though  I  believe  verily,  had  the  calm 
weather  held,  I  should  have  brought  away  the  whole  ship, 
piece  by  piece ;  but  preparing  the  twelfth  time  to  go  on 
board,  I  found  the  wind  began  to  rise ;  however,  at  low 
water  I  went  on  board,  and  though  I  thought  I  had  rum- 
maged the  cabin  so  effectually  that  nothing  more  could  be 
found,  yet  I  discovered  a  locker  with  drawers  in  it,  in  one 
of  which  T  found  two  or  three  razoi-s  and  one  pair  of  large 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  249 

scissors,  with  some  ten  or  a  dozen  of  good  knives  and  forks : 
in  another  I  found  about  thirty-six  pounds  value  in  money, 
—  some  European  coin,  some  Brazil,  some  pieces  of  eight, 
some  gold  and  some  silver. 

I  smiled  to  myself  at  the  sight  of  this  money :  "  O  drug," 
said  I  aloud,  "  what  art  thou  good  for  ?  Thou  art  not 
worth  to  me,  —  no,  not  the  taking  off  the  ground :  one  of 
those  knives  is  worth  all  this  heap:  I  have  no  manner  of 
use  for  thee  ;  even  remain  where  thou  art,  and  go  to  the 
bottom,  as  a  creature  whose  life  is  not  worth  saving." 
However,  upon  second  thoughts,  I  took  it  away :  and  wrap- 
ping all  in  a  piece  of  canvas,  I  began  to  think  of  making 
another  raft ;  but  while  I  was  preparing  this,  I  found  the 
sky  overcast,  and  the  wind  began  to  rise,  and  in  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  it  blew  a  fresli  gale  from  the  shore.  It  presently 
occurred  to  me,  that  it  was  in  vain  to  pretend  to  make  a 
raft  with  the  wind  off  shore ;  and  that  it  was  my  business 
to  be  gone  before  the  tide  of  flood  began,  otherwise  I  might 
not  be  able  to  reach  the  shore  at  all.  Accordingly,  I  let 
myself  down  into  the  water,  and  swam  across  the  channel 
which  lay  between  the  ship  and  the  sands,  and  even  that 
with  difficulty  enough,  partly  with  the  weight  of  the  things 
I  had  about  me,  and  partly  from  the  roughness  of  the  water ; 
for  the  wind  rose  very  hastily,  and  before  it  was  quite  high 
water  it  blew  a  storm. 

But  I  had  got  home  to  my  little  tent,  where  I  lay,  with 
all  my  wealth  about  me,  very  secure.  It  blew  very  hard  all 
that  night,  and  in  the  morning,  when  I  looked  out,  behold, 
no  more  ship  was  to  be  seen.  I  was  a  little  surprised,  but 
recovered  myself  with  this  satisfactory  reflection,  that  I  had 
lost  no  time,  nor  abated  any  diligence,  to  get  everything 
out  of  her  that  could  be  useful  to  me ;    and  that,  indeed, 


250  A   FIFTH    READER. 


there  was  little  left  in  her  that  I  was  able  to  bring  away,  if 
I  had  had  more  time. 

I  now  gave  over  any  more  thoughts  of  the  ship,  or  of  any- 
thing out  of  her,  except  what  miglit  drive  on  shore  from  her 
wreck  ;  as,  indeed,  divers  pieces  of  her  afterwards  did ;  but 
those  things  were  of  small  use  to  me. 


X  IV. 

MY  thoughts  were  now  wholly  employed  about  secur- 
ing myself  against  either  savages,  if  any  should 
appear,  or  wild  beasts,  if  any  were  in  the  island ;  and  I  had 
many  thoughts  of  the  method  how  to  do  this,  and  what  kind 
of  dwelling  to  make,  whether  I  should  make  me  a  cave  in 
the  earth,  or  a  tent  upon  the  earth ;  and,  in  short,  I  resolved 
upon  both,  the  manner  and  description  of  whi'ch  it  may  not 
be  improper  to  give  an  account  of. 

I  soon  found  the  place  I  was  in  was  not  fit  for  my  settle- 
ment, because  it  was  upon  a  low,  moorish  ground,  near  the 
sea,  and  I  believed  it  would  not  be  wholesome,  and  more 
particularly  because  there  was  no  fresh  water  near  it ;  so  I 
resolved  to  find  a  more  healthy  and  more  convenient  spot 
of  ground. 

I  consulted  several  things  in  my  situation,  which  I  found 
would  be  proper  for  me  :  first,  health  and  fresh  water,  I  just 
now  mentioned  ;  secondly,  shelter  from  the  heat  of  the  sun ; 
thirdly,  security  from  ravenous  creatures,  whether  men  or 
beasts  ;  fourthly,  a  view  to  the  sea,  that  if  God  sent  any  sliij) 
in  sight,  I  might  not  lose  any  advantage  for  my  deliverance, 
of  which  I  was  not  willing  to  banish  all  my  expectatibn  yet. 

In  search  of  a  place  proper  for  this,  I  found  a  little  plain 
on  the  side  of  a  rising  hill,  whose  front  towards  this  little, 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  251 


plain  was  steep  as  a  house-side,  so  that  nothing  could  come 
down  upon  me  from  the  top.  On  the  side  of  the  rock 
there  was  a  hollow  place,  worn  a  little  way  in,  like  the 
entrance  or  door  of  a  cave  ;  but  there  was  not  really  any 
cave,  or  way  into  the  rock,  at  all. 

On  the  flat  of  the  green,  just  before  this  hollow  place,  I 
resolved  to  pitch  my  tent.  This  plain  was  not  above  a  hun- 
dred yards  broad,  and  about  twice  as  long,  and  lay  like  a 
green  before  my  door ;  and,  at  the  end  of  it,  descended  irregu- 
larly every  way  down  into  the  low  grounds  by  the  sea-side. 
It  was  on  the  nort}i-northwest  side  of  the  hill;  so  that  it 
was  sheltered  from  the  heat  every  day,  till  it  came  to 
a  west  and  by  south  sun,  or  thereabouts,  which,  in  those 
countries,  is  near  the  setting. 

Before  I  set  up  my  tent  I  drew  a  half-circle  before  the 
hollow  place,  which  took  in  about  ten  yards  in  its  semi- 
diameter,  from  the  rock,  and  twenty  yards  in  its  diameter, 
from  its  beginning  and  ending.  In  this  half -circle  I  pitched 
two  rows  of  strong  stakes,  driving  them  into  the  ground  till 
they  stood  very  firm  like  piles,  the  biggest  end  being  out  of 
the  ground  about  five  feet  and  a  half,  and  sharpened  on  the 
top.  The  two  rows  did  not  stand  above  six  inches  from 
one  another. 

Then  I  took  the  pieces  of  cable  which  I  had  cut  in  the 
ship,  and  laid  them  in  rows,  one  upon  another,  within  the 
circle,  between  these  rows  of  stakes,  up  to  the  top,  placing 
other  stakes  in  the  inside,  leaning  against  them,  about  two 
feet  and  a  half  high,  like  a  spur  to  a  post ;  and  this  fence 
was  so  strong,  that  neither  man  nor  beast  could  get  into  it 
or  over  it.  This  cost  me  a  great  deal  of  time  and  labor, 
especially  to  cut  the  piles  in  the  woods,  bring  them  to  the 
place,  and  drive  them  into  the  earth. 


252  A  FIFTH    READER. 


The  entrance  into  this  place  I  made  to  be,  not  by  a  door, 
but  by  a  short  ladder  to  go  up  over  the  top ;  which  ladder, 
when  I  was  in,  I  lifted  over  after  me  ;  and  so  I  was  com- 
pletely fenced  in  and  fortified,  as  I  thought,  from  all  the 
world,  and  consequently  slept  secure  in  the  night,  which 
otherwise  I  could  not  have  done ;  though,  as  it  appeared 
afterwards,  there  was  no  need  of  all  this  caution  from  the 
enemies  that  I  apprehended  danger  from. 

Into  this  fence,  or  fortress,  with  infinite  labor,  I  carried 
all  my  riches,  all  my  provisions,  ammunition,  and  stores,  of 
which  you  have  the  account  above  ;  and  I  made  me  a  large 
tent,  which,  to  preserve  me  from  the  rains,  that  in  one  part 
of  the  j^ear  are  very  violent  there,  I  made  double,  viz.,  one 
smaller  tent  within,  and  one  large  tent  above  it;  and 
covered  the  uppermost  with  a  large  tarpaulin,  which  I  had 
saved  among  the  sails. 

And  now  I  lay  no  more  for  a  while  in  the  bed  which  I 
had  brought  on  shore,  but  in  a  hammock,  which  was  indeed 
a  very  good  one,  and  belonged  to  the  mate  of  the  ship. 

Into  this  tent  I  brought  all  my  provisions  and  everything 
that  would  spoil  by  the  wet ;  and  having  thus  inclosed  all 
my  goods,  I  made  up  the  entrance,  which  till  now  I  had 
left  open,  and  so  passed  and  repassed,  as  I  said,  by  a  short 
ladder. 

When  I  ha^  done  this,  I  began  to  work  my  way  into  the 
rock,  and  bringing  all  the  earth  and  stones  that  I  dug  down 
out  through  my  tent,  I  laid  them  up  within  my  fence,  in  the 
nature  of  a  terrace,  so  that  it  raised  the  ground  within 
about  a  foot  and  a  half ;  and  thus  I  made  a  cave,  just  behind 
my  tent,  which  served  me  like  a  cellar  to  my  house. 


ROBINSON   CRUSOE.  253 

V. 

I  WAS  surprised  one  morning  by  seeing  no  less  than  five 
canoes  all  on  shore  together  on  my  side  the  island,  and 
the  people  who  belonged  to  them  all  landed  and  out  of  my 
sight.  The  r\umber  of  them  broke  all  my  measures ;  for 
seeing  so  many,  and  knowing  that  they  always  came  four 
or  six,  or  sonietimes  more,  in  a  boat,  I  could  not  tell  what 
to  think  of  it,  or  how  to  take  my  measures,  to  attack  twenty 
or  thirty  men  single-handed  ;  so  lay  still  in  my  castle,  per- 
plexed and  discomforted.  However,  I  put  myself  into  the 
same  position  for  an  attack  that  I  had  formerly  provided, 
and  was  just  ready  for  action,  if  anything  had  presented. 
Having  waited  a  good  while,  listening  to  hear  if  they  made 
any  noise,  at  length,  being  very  impatient,  I  set  my  guns 
at  the  foot  of  my  ladder,  and  clambered  up  to  the  top  of 
the  hill,  by  my  two  stages,  as  usual ;  standing  so,  however, 
that  my  head  did  not  appear  above  the  hill,  so  that  they 
could  not  perceive  me  by  any  means.  Here  I  observed,  by 
the  help  of  my  perspective-glass,  that  they  were  no  less 
than  thirty  in  number,  that  they  had  a  fire  kindled,  and 
that  they  had  meat  dressed.  How  they  had  cooked  it,  I 
knew  not,  or  what  it  was  ;  but  they  were  all  dancing  in  I 
know  not  how  many  barbarous  gestures  and  figures,  their 
own  way,  round  the  fire. 

While  I  was  thus  looking  on  them  I  perceived,  by  my 
perspective,  two  miserable  wretches  dragged  from  the  boats, 
where,  it  seems,  they  were  laid  by,  and  were  now  brought 
out  for  the  slaughter.  I  perceived  one  of  them  immedi- 
ately fall,  being  knocked  down,  I  suppose,  with  a  club, 
or  Avooden  sword,  for  that  was  their  way ;  and  two  or 
three  others  were  at  work  immediately  cutting  him  open 


254  A   FIFTH   READER. 

for  their  cookery,  while  the  other  victim  was  left  standing 
by  himself,  till  they  should  be  ready  for  him.  In  that  very 
moment,  this  poor  wretch  seeing  himself  a  little  at  liberty, 
and  unbound,  Nature  inspired  him  with  hopes  of  life,  and 
he  started  away  from  them,  and  ran  with  incredible  swift> 
ness  along  the  sands,  directly  towards  me  ;  I  mean,  towards 
that  part  of  the  coast  where  my  habitation  was.  I  was 
dreadfully  frightened,  I  must  acknowledge,  when  I  per- 
ceived him  run  my  way,  and  especially  when,  as  I  thought, 
I  saw  him  pursued  by  the  whole  party.  However,  I  kept 
my  station,  and  my  spirits  began  to  recover  when  I  found 
that  there  were  not  above  three  men  that  followed  him  ; 
and  still  more  was  I  encouraged,  when  I  found  that  he  out- 
stripped them  exceedingly  in  running,  and  gained  ground 
on  them,  so  that,  if  he  could  but  hold  out  for  half  an  hour, 
I  saw  easily  he  would  fairlj^  get  away  from  them  all. 

There  was  between  them  and  my  castle  the  creek,  which 
T  mentioned  often  in  the  first  part  of  my  story,  Avhere  I 
landed  my  cargoes  out  of  the  ship ;  and  this  I  saw  plainly 
he  must  necessarily  swim  over,  or  the  poor  wretch  would  be 
taken  there  ;  but  when  the  savage  escaping  came  thither, 
he  made  nothing  of  it,  though  the  tide  was  then  up,  but 
plunging  in,  swam  through  in  about  thirty  strokes,  or 
thereabouts,  landed,  and  ran  with  exceeding  strength  and 
swiftness.  When  the  three  persons  came  to  the  creek,  I 
found  that  two  of  them  could  swim,  but  the  third  could  not, 
and  that  standing  on  the  other  side  he  looked  at  the  others, 
but  went  no  farther,  and  soon  after  went  softly  back  again ; 
which,  as  it  happened,  was  very  well  for  him  in  the  main.  I 
observed  that  the  two  who  swam  were  yet  more  than  twice 
as  long  swimming  over  the  creek  as  the  fellow  was  that  fled 
from  them.     It  came  very  warmly  upon  my  thoughts,  and, 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  255 

indeed,  irresistibly,  that  now  was  the  time  to  get  me  a  ser- 
vant, and  perhaps,  a  companion  or  assistant ;  and  that  I 
was  called  plainly  by  Providence  to  save  this  poor  creature's 
life. 

I  immediately  ran  down  the  ladders  with  all  possible  ex- 
pedition, fetched  my  two  guns,  for  they  were  both  at  the 
foot  of  the  ladders,  as  I  observed  before,  and  getting  up 
again  with  the  same  haste  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  I  crossed 
towards  the  sea,  and  having  a  very  short  cut,  and  all  down 
hill,  clapped  myself  in  the  way  between  the  pursuers  and  the 
pursued,  hallooing  aloud  to  him  that  fled,  who,  looking  back, 
was  at  first,  perhaps,  as  much  frightened  at  me  as  at  them ; 
but  I  beckoned  with  my  hand  to  him  to  come  back,  and  in 
the  mean  time,  I  slowly  advanced  towards  the  two  that  fol- 
lowed ;  then  rushing  at  once  upon  the  foremost,  I  knocked 
him  down  with  the  stock  of  my  piece.  I  was  loath  to  fire, 
because  I  would  not  have  the  rest  hear ;  though  at  that  dis- 
tance it  would  not  have  been  easily  heard,  and  being  out  of 
sight  of  the  smoke,  too,  they  would  not  have  easily  known 
what  to  make  of  it.  Having  knocked  this  fellow  down,  the 
other,  who  pursued  with  him,  stopped  as  if  he  had  been 
frighted,  and  I  advanced  apace  towards  him ;  but  as  I  came 
nearer  I  perceived  presently  he  had  a  bow  and  arrow,  and 
was  fitting  it  to  shoot  at  me ;  so  I  was  then  necessitated  to 
shoot  at  him  first,  which  I  did,  and  killed  him  at  the  first 
shot. 

The  poor  savage  who  fled,  but  had  stopped,  though  he 
saw  both  his  enemies  fallen  and  killed  as  he  thought,  yet 
was  so  frighted  with  the  fire  and  noise  of  my  piece,  that 
he  stood  stock  still,  and  neither  came  forward  nor  went 
backward,  though  he  seemed  rather  inclined  still  to  fly  than 
to  come  on.     I  hallooed  again  to  him,  and  made  signs  to 


256 


A  FIFTH   READER. 


come  forward,  which  he  easily  understood,  and  came  a  little 
way,  then  stopped  again,  and  then  a  little  farther,  and 
stopped  again;  and  I  could  then  perceive  that  he  stood 
trembling  as  if  he  had  been  taken  prisoner 
and  had  just  been  to  be  killed,  as  his  two 
enemies  were.  I  beckoned  to 
him  again  to  come 
^.„  _  to  me,  and  gave  him 
v--  — —  all  the  signs  of  en- 
couragement that  I 
could  think  of;  and  he 
came  nearer  and  nearer, 
kneeling  down  every  ten 
or  twelve  steps  in  token 
of  acknowledg- 
ment    for    my 


FRIDAY   SWEARINO    ALLEGIANCE   TO    ROBINSON    CRUSOE. 


saving  his  life.  I  smiled  at  him,  and  looked  pleasantly,  and 
beckoned  to  him  to  come  still  nearer.  At  length  he  came 
close  to  me,  and  then  he  kneeled  down  again,  kissed  the 
ground,  and  laid  his  head  upon  the  ground,  and,  taking  me 
by  the  foot,  set  my  foot  upon  his  liead ;  this,  it  seems,  was 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  257 

in  token  of  swearing  to  be  my  slave  forever.     I  took  him  up 
and  made  much  of  him,  and  encouraged  him  all  I  could. 

But  there  was  more  work  to  do  yet;  for  I  perceived  the 
savage  whom  I  had  knocked  down  was  not  killed,  but 
stunned  with  the  blow,  and  began  to  come  to  himself ;  so  I 
pointed  to  him,  and  showed  him  the  savage,  that  he  was  not 
dead.  Upon  this  he  spoke  some  words  to  me,  and  though 
I  could  not  understand  them,  yet  I  thought  they  were 
pleasant  to  hear,  for  they  were  the  first  sound  of  a  man's 
voice  that  I  had  heard,  my  own  excepted,  for  above  twenty- 
five  years.  But  there  was  no  time  for  such  reflections  now. 
The  savage  who  was  knocked  down  recovered  himself  so  far 
as  to  sit  upon  the  ground,  and  I  perceived  that  my  savage 
began  to  be  afraid ;  but  when  I  saw  that,  I  presented  my 
other  piece  at  the  man,  as  if  I  would  shoot  him.  Upon 
this,  my  savage,  for  so  I  call  him  now,  made  a  motion  to 
me  to  lend  him  my  sword,  which  hung  naked  in  a  belt  by 
my  side,  which  I  did.  He  no  sooner  had  it,  but  he  runs 
to  his  enemy,  and  at  one  blow,  cut  off  his  head  so  cleverly, 
no  executioner  in  Germany  could  have  done  it  sooner  or 
better,  which  I  thought  very  strange  for  one  who,  I  had 
reason  to  believe,  never  saw  a  sword  in  his  life  before 
except  their  own  wooden  swords;  however,  it  seems,  as 
I  learned  afterwards,  they  make  their  wooden  swords  so 
iharp,  so  heavy,  and  the  wood  is  so  hard,  that  they  will  cut 
off  heads  even  with  them,  ay,  and  arms,  and  that  at  one  blow, 
too.  When  he  had  done  this,  he  comes  laughing  to  me  in 
sign  of  triumph,  and  brought  me  the  sword  again,  and  with 
abundance  of  gestures  which  I  did  not  understand,  laid  it 
down,  with  the  head  of  the  savage  that  he  had  killed,  just 
before  me.  But  that  which  astonished  him  most  was  to 
know  how  I  killed  the  other  Indian  so  far  off ;  so  pointing 

IS— 5u 


258  A  FIFTH  READER. 


to  him,  he  made  signs  to  me  to  let  him  go  to  him,  and  I 
bade  him  go  as  well  as  I  could. 

When  he  came  to  him,  he  stood  like  one  amazed,  looking 
at  him,  turning  him  first  on  one  side,  then  on  the  other ; 
looked  at  the  wound  the  bullet  had  made,  which  it  seems 
was  just  in  his  breast,  where  it  "had  made  a  hole,  and  no 
great  quantity  of  blood  had  followed ;  but  he  had  bled  in- 
wardly, for  he  was  quite  dead.  He  took  up  his  bow  and 
arrows,  and  came  back ;  so  I  turned  to  go  away,  and  beck- 
oned him  to  follow  me,  making  signs  to  him  that  more 
might  come  after  them.  Upon  this  he  signed  to  me  that 
he  should  bury  them  with  sand,  that  they  -might  not  be 
seen  by  the  rest,  if  they^ollowed ;  and  so  I  made  signs  to 
him  again  to  do  so.  He  fell  to  work,  and  in  an  instant  he 
had  scraped  a  hole  in  the  sand  with  his  -hands,  big  enpugh 
to  bury  the  first  in,  and  then  dragged  him  into  it,  and  cov- 
ered him,  and  did  so  also  by  the  other.  I  believe  he  had 
bui'ied  them  both  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  ^Then  calling 
him  away,  I  carried  him,  not  to  my  castle,  but  quite  away 
to  my  cave,  on  the  farther  part  of  the  island ;  so  I  did  not 
let  my  dream  come  to  pass  in  that  part,  that  he  came  into 
my  grove  for  shelter.  Here  I  gave  him  bread  and  a  bunch 
of  raisins  to  eat,  and  a  draught  of  water,  which  I  found  he 
was  indeed  in  great  distress  for,  from  his  running ;  and 
having  refreshed  him,  I  made  signs  for  him  to  go  and  lie 
down  to  sleep,  showing  him  a  place  where  I  had  laid  some 
rice  straw,  and  a  blanket  upon  it,  which  I  used  to  sleep 
u[)on  myself  sometimes ;  so  the  poor  creature  lay  down  and 
went  to  sleep. 

He  was  a  comely,  handsome  fellow,  perfectly  well  made, 
with  straight  strong  limbs,  not  too  large,  tall,  and  well 
shaped ;   and,  as  I  reckon,  about  twenty-six  years  of  age. 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE:  259 

He  had  a  very  good  countenance,  not  a  fierce  and  surly 
aspect,  but  seemed  to  have  something  very  manly  in  his 
face;  and  yet  he  had  all  the  sweetness  and  softness  of  a 
European  in  his  countenance  too,  especially  when  he  smiled. 
His  hair  was  long  and  black,  not  curled  like  wool,  his  fore- 
head very  high  and  large,  and  a  great  vivacity  and  spark- 
ling sharpness  in  his  eyes.  The  color  of  the  skin  was  not 
quite  black,  but  very  tawny ;  and  yet  not  an  ugly,  yellow, 
nauseous  tawny,  as  the  Brazilians  and  Virginians,  and  other 
natives  of  America  are,  but  of  a  bright  kind  of  a  dun  olive- 
color,  that  had  in  it  something  very  agreeable,  though  not 
very  easy  to  describe.  His  face  was  round  and  plump,  his 
nose  small,  not  flat  like  the  Negroes  ;  a  very  good  mouth, 
thin  lips,  and  his  fine  teeth  well  set,  and  as  white  as  ivory. 

After  he  had  slumbered,  rather  tlian  slept,  about  half  an 
hour,  he  awoke  again,  and  came  out  of  the  cave  to  me;  for 
I  had  been  milking  my  goats,  which  I  had  in  the  inclosure 
just  by.  When  he  espied  me,  he  came  running  to  me,  laying 
himself  down  again  upon  the  ground,  with  all  the  possible 
signs  of  a  humble,  thankful  disposition,  making  a  ,great 
many  antic  gestures  to  show  it.  At  last  he  lays  his  head . 
flat  upon  the  ground,  close  to  my  foot,  and  sets  my  other 
foot  upon  his  head,  as  he  had  done  before ;  and  after  this 
made  all  the  signs  to  me  of  subjection,  servitude,  and  sub- 
mission imaginable,  to  let  me  know  how  he  would  serve  me 
so  long  as  he  lived.  I  understood  him  in  many  things,  and 
let  him  know  I  was  very  well  pleased  with  him.  In  a  little 
time  I  began  to  speak  to  him,  and  teach  him  to  speak  to 
me ;  and,  first,  I  let  him  know  his  name  should  be  Friday, 
which  was  the  day  I  saved  his  life.  I  called  him  so  for  the 
memory  of-  the  time.  I  likewise  taught  him  to  say  Master ; 
and  then  let  him  know  that  was  to  be  my  name.     I  likewise 


260  A   FIFTH   READER.    , 

taught  him  to  say  Yes  and  No,  and  to  know  the  meaning  of 
them.  I  gave  him  some  milk  in  an  earthen  pot,  and  let  him 
see  me  drink  it  before  him,  and  sop  my  bread  in  it ;  and 
gave  him  a  cake  of  bread  to  do  the  like,  which  he  quickly 
cooiplied  with,  and  made  signs  that  it  was  very  good  for 
him.  I  then  led  him  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  to  see  if  his 
enemies  were  gone,  and  pulling  out  my  glass,  I  looked,  and 
saw  plainly  the  place  where  they  had  been,  but  no  appear- 
ance of  them  or  their  canoes;  so  that  it  was  plain  they 
were  gone,  and  had  left  their  two  comrades  behind  them, 
without  any  search  after  them. 


VI. 

THE  next  day,  after  I  came  home  to  my  hutcji  with  Fri- 
day, I  began  to  consider  where  I  should  lodge  him; 
and  that  I  might  do  well  for  him  and  yet  be  perfectly  easy 
myself,  I  made  a  little  tent  for  him  in  the  vacant  place  be- 
tween my  two  fortifications,  in  the  inside  of  the  last,  and  in 
the  outside  of  the  first.  As  there  was  a  door  or  entrance  there 
into  my  cave,  I  made  a  formal  framed  door-case,  and  a  door 
to  it  of  boards,  and  set  it  up  in  the  passage,  a  little  within 
the  entrance,  and  causing  the  door  to  open  in  the  inside,  I 
barred  it  up  in  the  night,  taking  i'li  my  ladder,  too  ;  so  that 
Friday  could  no  way  come  at  me  in- the  inside  of  my  inner- 
most wall  without  making  so  much  noise  in  getting  over 
that  it  must  needs  awaken  me  ;  for  my  first  wall  had  now  a 
complete  roof  over  it  of  long  poles,  covering  all  my  tent, 
and  leaning  up  to  the  side  of  the  hill,  which  was  again 
laid  across  with  smaller  sticks,  instead  of  laths,  and  then 
thatched  over  a  great  thickness  with  the  rice  straw,  wliich 
was  strong  like  reeds ;  and  at  the  hole  or  place  which  was 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  261 

left  to  go  in  or  out  by  the  ladder,  I  had  placed  a  kind  of  a 
trapdoor,  which,  if  it  had.  been  attempted,  on  the  outside, 
would  not  have  opened  at  all,  but  would  have  fallen  down 
and  made  a  great  noise.  As  to  weapons,  I  took  them  all  into 
my  side  every  night.  But  I  needed  none  of  all  this  precau- 
tion, for  never  a  man  had  a  more  faithful,  loving,  sincere 
servant  than  Friday  was  to  me ;  without  'passions,  sullen- 
ness,  or  designs,  perfectly  obliged  and  engaged.  His  very 
affections  were  tied  to  me,  like  those  of  a  child  to  a  father ; 
and  I  dare  say  he  would  have  sacrificed  his  life  to  save 
mine,  upon  any  occasion  whatsoever.  The  many  testimonies 
he  gave  me  of  this  put  it  out  of  doubt,  and  soon  convinced 
me  that  I  needed  to  use  no  precautions  for  my  safety  on  his 
account. 

After  I  had  been  two  or  three  days  returned  to  my  castle, 
I  thought  that  in  order  to  bring  Friday  off  from  his  horrid 
way  of  feeding,  and  from  the  relish  bf  a  cannibal's  stomach, 
I  ought  to  let  him  taste  other  flesh :  so  I  took  him  out  with 
me  one  morning  to  the  woods.  I  went,  indeed,  intending 
to  kill  a  kid  out  of  my  own  flock,  and  bring  it  home  and 
dress  it ;  but  as  I  was  going  I  saw  a  she-goat  lying  down 
in  the  shade,  and  two  young  kids  sitting  by  her.  I  catched 
hold  of  Friday.  "  Hold,"  said  I ;  "  stand  still ;  "  and  made 
signs  to  him  not  to  stir.  Immediately  I  presented  my  piece, 
shot  and  killed  one  of  t"he  kids;  The  poor  creature,  who 
had,  at  a  distance,  indeed,  seen  me  kill  the  savage,  his 
enemy,  but  did  not  know  nor  could  imagine  how  it  was 
done,  was  sensibly  surprised,  trembled,  and  shook,  and 
looked  so  amazed  that  I  thought  he  would  have  sunk  down. 
He  did  not  see  the  kid  I  shot  at,  or  perceive  I  had  killed  it, 
but  ripped  up  his  waistcoat,  to  feel  whether  he  was  not 


262  A   FIFTH   READER. 


wounded,  and,  as  I  found  presently,  thought  I  was  resolved 
to  kill  him;  for  he  came  and  kneeled  down  to  me,  and 
embracing  my  knees,  said  a  great  many  things  I  did  not 
understand,  but  I  could  easily  see  the  meaning  was  to 
pray  me  not  to  kill  him. 

I  soon  found  a  way  to  convince  him  that  I  would  do  him 
no  harm ;  and  taking  him  up  by  the  hand,  laughed  at  him, 
and  pointing  to  the  kid  which  I  had  killed,  beckoned  to 
him  to  run  and  fetch  it,  which  he  did:  and  while  he  was 
wondering,  and  looking  to  see  how  the  creature  was  killed, 
I  loaded  my  gun  again.  By  and  by,  I  saw  a  great  fowl, 
like  a  hawk,  sitting  upon  a  tree  within  shot ;  so,  to  let 
Friday  understand  a  little  what  I  would  do,  I  called  him  to 
me  again,  pointed  at  the  fowl,  which  was  indeed  a  parrot, 
though  I  thought  it  had  been  a  hawk,  —  I  say,  pointing  to 
the  parrot,  to  let  him  see  I  would  make  it  fall,  I  made  him 
understand  that  I  would  shoot  and  kill  that  bird.  Accord- 
ingly, I  fired,  and  bade  him  look,  and  immediately  he  saw 
the  parrot  fall.  He  stood  like  one  frightened  again,  not- 
withstanding all  I  said  to  him:  and  I  found  he  was  the 
more  amazed,  because  he  did  not  see  me  put  anything  into 
the  gun,  but  thought  that  there  must  be  some  wonderful 
fund  of  death  and  destruction  in  that  thing,  abl^  to  kill 
man,  beast,  bird,  or  anything  near  or  far  off ;  and  the  aston- 
ishment this  created  in  him  was  such  as  could  not  wear  off 
for  a  long  time,  and  I  believe,  if  I  would  have  let  him,  he 
would  have  worshiped  me  and  my  gun.  As  for  the  gun 
itself,  he  would  not  so  much  as  touch  it  for  several  days 
after ;  but  he  would  speak  to  it  and  talk  to  it,  as  if  it  had 
answered  him,  when  he  was  by  himself,  which,  as  I  after- 
wards learned  of  him,  was  to  desire  it  not  to  kill  him. 

Well,  after  his  astonishment  was  a  little  over  at  this,  I 


V 

ROBINSON    CRUSOE.  263 

pointed  to  him  to  run  and  fetch  the  bird  I  had  shot,  which 
he  did,  but  stayed  some  time ;  for  the  parrot,  not  being 
quite  dead,  had  fluttered  away  a  good  distance  from  the 
place  where  she  fell.  However,  he  found  her,  took  her  up, 
and  brought  her  to  me,  and  as  I  had  perceived  his  igno- 
rance about  the  gun  before,  I  took  this  advantage  to  charge 
the  gun  again,  and  not  to  let  him  see  me  do  it,  that  I 
might  be  ready  for  any  other  mark  that  might  present,  but 
nothing  more  offered  at  that  time ;  so  I  brought  home  the 
kid,  and  the  same  evening  I  took  the  skin  off,  and  cut  it 
out  as  well  as  I  could,  and  having  a  pot  for  that  purpose, 
I  boiled  or  stewed  some  of  the  flesh,  and  made  some  very 
good  broth.  After  I  had  begun  to  eat  some,  I  gave  some 
to  my  man,  who  seemed  very  glad  of  it,  and  liked  it  very 
well;  but  that  which  was  strangest  to  him  was  to  see  me 
eat  salt  with  it.  He  made  a  sign  to  me  that  the  salt  was 
not  good  to  eat,  and  putting  a  little  into  his  mouth,  he 
seemed  to  nauseate  it,  and  would  spit  and  sputter  at  it, 
washing  his  mouth  with  fresh  water  after  it.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  took  some  meat  into  my  mouth  without  salt,  and 
pretended  to  spit  and  sputter  for  want  of  salt,  as  much  as 
he  had  done  at  the  salt,  but  it  would  not  do;  he  would 
never  care  for  salt  with  his  meat  or  in  his  broth,  at  least 
not  for  a  great  while,  and  then  but  a  very  little. 

Having  thus  fed  him  with  boiled  meat  and  brotll,  I  was 
resolved  to  feast  him  the  next  day  by  roasting  a  piece  of 
the  kid.  This  I  did  by  hanging  it  before  the  fire  on  a  string, 
as  I  had  seen  many  people  do  in  Englapd,  setting  two  poles 
up,  one  on  each  side  of  the  fire,  and  one  across  on  the  top, 
and  tying  the  string  to  the  cross  stick,  letting  the  meat  turn 
continually.  This  Friday  admired  very  much;  but  when 
he  came  to  taste  the  flesh,  he  took  so  many  ways  to  tell  me 


264  A   FIFTH    READER. 

how  well  he  liked  it,  that  I  could  not  but  understand  him, 
and  at  last  he  told  me,  as  well  as  he  could,  he  would  never 
eat  man's  flesh  any  more,  which  I  was  very  glad  to  hear. 

The  next  day  I  set  him  to  work  to  beating  some  corn 
out,  and  sifting  it  in  the  manner  I  used  to  do,  as  I  ob- 
served before ;  and  he  soon  understood  how  to  do  it  as  well 
as  I,  especially  after  he  had  seen  what  the  meaning  of  it 
was,  and  that  it  was  to  make  bread  of ;  for  after  that,  I  let 
him  see  me  make  my  bread,  and  bake  it  too,  and  in  a  little 
time,  Friday  was  able  to  do  all  the  work  for  me,  as  well  as 
I  could  do  it  myself. 

I  was  fast  asleep  in  my  hutch  one  morning,  when  my  man 
Friday  came  running  in  to  me,  and  called  aloud,  "  Master, 
Master,  they  are  come,  they  are  come."  I  jumped  up,  and 
regardless  of  danger,  I  went  out  as  soon  as  I  could  get  my 
clothes  on,  through  my  little  grove,  which,  by  the  way,  was 
by  this  time  grown  to  be  a  very  thick  wood.  I  say,  regard- 
less of  danger,  I  went  out  without  my  arms  which  was  not 
my  custom  to  do ;  but  I  was  surprised,  when,  turning  my 
eyes  to  the  sea,  I  presently  saw  a  boat  at  about  a  league  and 
a  half  distance,  standing  in  for  the  shore,  with  a  shoulder-of- 
mutton  sail,  as  they  call  it,  and  the  wind  blowing  pretty 
fair  to  bring  them  in ;  also  I  observed,  presently,  that  they 
did  not  come  from  the  side  which  the  shore  lay  on,  but 
from  the  southernmost  end  of  the  island.  Upon  this  I 
called  Friday  in,  and  bade  him  lie  close,  for  these  were  not 
the  people  we  looked  for,  and  that  we  might  not  know  yet 
whether  they  were  friends  or  enemies.  In  the  next  place,  I 
went  in  to  fetch  my  perspective-glass,  to  see  what  I  could 
make  of  them  ;  and  having  taken  the  ladder  out,  I  climbed 
up  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  as  I  used  to  do  when  I  was  appre- 


ROBINSON    CRUSOE. 


265 


hensive  of  anything,  and  to  take  my  view  the  plainer,  with- 
out being  discovered.  I  had  scai-ce  set  my  foot  upon  the 
hill,  when  my  eye  plainly  discovered  a  ship  lying  at  an 
anchor,  at  about  two  leagues  and  a  half  distance  from  me 
south-southeast,  but  not  above  a  league  and  a  half  from  the 


KESCUE   OF    ROBINSON   CRUSOE. 


shore.    By  my  observation,  it  appeared  plainly  to  be  an  Eng- 
lish ship,  and  the  boat  appeared  to  be  an  English  long-boat. 


When  I  took  leave  of  this  island,  I  carried  on  board,  for 


266  A  FIFTH   READER. 


relics,  the  great  goat-skin  cap  I  had  made,  my  umbrella, 
and  my  parrot;  also  I  forgot  not  to  take  the  money  I 
formerly  mentioned,  which  had  lain  by  me  so  long  useless 
that  it  had  grown  rusty  or  tarnished,  and  could  hardly  pass 
for  silver  till  it  had  been  a  little  rubbed  and  handled,  as 
also  the  money  I  found  in  the  wreck  of  the  Spanish  ship. 
And  thus  I  left  the  island,  the  I9th  of  December,  as  I 
found  by  the  ship's  account,  in  the  year  1686,  after  I  had 
been  upon  it  eight-and-twenty  years,  two  months,  and  nine- 
teen days,  being  delivered  from  this  second  captivity  the 
same  day  of  the  month  that  I  first  made  my  escape  in  the 
long-boat,  from  among  the  Moors  of  Sallee.  In  this  vessel, 
after  a  long  voyage,  I  arrived  in  England  the  11th  of  June, 
in  the  year  1687,  having  been  thirty-and-five  years  absent. 


xLviii.    harold:s  song. 

By  Sir  Walter  Scott. 

OH,  listen,  listen,  ladies  gay! 
No  haughty  feat  of  arms  I  tell ; 
Soft  is  the  note,  and  sad  the  lay, 
That  mourns  the  lovely  Rosabelle. 

"Moor,  moor  the  barge,  ye  gallant  crew  I 
And,  gentle  ladye,  deign  to  stay  I 

Rest  thee  in  Castle  Ravensheuch,  i 

Nor  tempt  the  stormy  firth  to-day. 

"The  blackening  wave  is  edged  with  white; 

To  inch  and  rock  the  sea  mews  fly: 
The  fishers  have  heard  the  Water  Sprite, 

Whose  scream^  forebode  that  wreck  is  nigh. 


A   FIFTH    READEP.  267 

"Last  night  the  gifted  Seer  did  view 
A  wet  shroud  swathed  round  ladye  gay; 

Then-  stay  thee,  fair,  in  Ravensheuch : 
Why  cross  the  gloomy  firth  to-day  ? " 

"  'T  is  not  because  Lord  Lindesay's  heir 

To-night  at  Roslin  leads  the  ball, 
But  that  my  ladye-mother  there 

Sits  lonely  in  her  castle  hall. 

"  'T  is  not  because  the  ring  they  ride. 
And  Lindesay  at  the  ring  rides  well, 

But  that  my  sire  the  wine  will  chide 
If  't  is  not  filled  by  Rosabelle." 

O'er  Roslin  all  that  dreary  night 

A  wondrous  blaze  was  seen  to  gleam  5 

'Twas  broader  than  the  watch  fire  light. 
And  redder  than  the  bright  moonbeam. 

It  glared  on  Roslin's  castled  rock. 

It  ruddied  all  the  copse  wood  glen; 
'T  was  seen  from  Dreyden's  groves  of  oak, 

And  seen  from  caverned  Hawthornden. 

Seemed  all  on  fire  that  chapel  proud 
Where  Roslin's  chiefs  uncoffined  lie, 

Each  baron,  for  a  sable  shroud. 
Sheathed  in  his  iron  panoply. 

Seemed  all  on  fire  within,  around, 

Deep  sacristry  and  altar's  pale; 
Shone  every  pillar  fpliage-bound. 

And  glimmered  all  the  dead  men's  maiL 


268  A  FIFTH  READER. 

Blazed  battlement  and  pinnet  high, 

Blazed  every  rose-carved  buttress  fair — 

So  still  they  blaze  when  fate  is  nigh 
The  lordly  line  of  high  Saint  Clair. 

There  are  twenty  of  KoslinV  barons  bold 
Lie  buried  within  that  proud  chapelle; 

Each  one  the  holy  vault  doth  hold  — 
But  the  sea  holds  lovely  Rosabelle  I 

And  each  Saint  Clair  was  buried  there, 
With  candle,  and  with  book  and  knell; 

But  the  sea  caves  rung,  and  the  wild  winds  sung 
The  dirge  of  lovely  Rosabelle. 

From  '*  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel.*^ 


XLIX.     MAKING   MAPLE   SUGAR. 

By  Charles  Dudley  Warner. 

I  THINK  there  is  no  part  of  farming  which  the  boy^ 
enjoy  more  than  the  making  of  maple  sugar.  It  is 
better  than  blackberrying,  and  nearly  as  good  as  fishing ; 
and  one  reason  why  he  likes  this  work  is,  that  somebody 
else  does  the  most  of  it.  It  is  a  sort  of  work  in  which  he 
can  appear  to  be  very  active,  and  yet  not  do  much. 

In  my  day,  maple  sugar  making  used  to  be  something 
between  picnicking  and  being  shipwrecked  on  a  fertile 
island,  where  one  should  save  from  the  wreck  tubs,  and 
augers,  and  great  kettles,  and  hen's  eggs,  and  rye-and- 
Indian  bread,  and  begin  at  once  to  lead  the  sweetest  life 


MAKING    MAPLE    SUGAR.  269 


in  the  world.  I  am  told  that  it  is  something  different 
nowadays,  and  that  there  is  now  more  desire  to  save  the 
sap,  and  make  good,  pure  sugar,  and  sell  it  for  a  large  price, 
than  there  used  to  be  ;  and  that  the  whole  fun  and  poetry 
of  the  business^are  pretty  much  gone. 

As  I  remember  the  New  England  boy  (and  I  am  very 
intimate  with  one)  he  used  to  be  on  the  watch  in  tlie  spring 
for  the  sap  to  come.  Perhaps  he  knew  it  by  a  feeling  of 
something  starting  in  his  own  veins,  —  a  sort  of  a  spring 
stir  in  his  legs  and  arms,  which  tempted  him  to  stand  on  his 
head,  or  throw  a  handspring,  if  he  could  find  a  spot  of  ground 
from  which  the  snow  had  melted. 

Perhaps  the  boy  has  been  out  digging  into  the  maple  trees 
with  his  jackknife  ;  at  any  rate,  he  comes  into  the  house  in 
a  good  state  of  excitement  —  as  if  he  had  heard  a  hen  cackle 
in  the  barn  —  with,  "Sap 's  runnin' !  " 

Then  indeed  the  stir  and  excitement  begin.  The  sap 
buckets,  which  have  been  stored  in  the  garret  over  the 
woodhouse,  are  brought  down  and  set  out  on  the  south  side 
of  the  house,  and  scalded.  The  boy  is  everywhere  present, 
superintending  everything,  asking  questions,  and  filled  with 
a  desire  to  help  on  the  excitement. 

It  is  a  great  day  when  the  sled  is  loaded  with  buckets, 
and  the  procession  starts  for  the  woods.  The  sun  shines 
almost  unobstructedly  into  the  forest,  for  there  are  only 
naked  branches  to  bar  it ;  the  snow  is  beginning  to  sink 
down,  leaving  the  young  bushes  spindling  up  ever}^- 
where  ;  the  snowbirds  are  twittering  about,  and  the  noise 
of  shouting,  and  the  blows  of  the  ax,  echo  far  and 
wide. 

In  the  first  place,  the  men  go  about  and  tap  the  trees, 
drive  in  the  spouts,  and  put  the  buckets  under.     The  boy 


270  A   FIFTH   READER. 


watches  all  this  with  the  greatest  interest.  He  wishes  that, 
sometimes,  when  a  hole  is  bored  in  a  tree,  the  sap  would 
spout  out  in  a  stream,  as  it  does  when  a  cider  barrel  is 
tapped,  but  it  never  does :  it  only  drops,  —  sometimes  al- 
most in  a  stream,  but,  on  the  whole,  slowly,  —  and  the  boy 
learns  that  the  sweet  things  of  the  world  do  not  come  other- 
wise than  drop  by  drop. 

"^hen  the  camp  is  to  be  cleared  of  snow.  The  shanty  is 
re-covered  with  boughs.  In  front  of  it  two  enormous  logs 
are  rolled  nearly  together,  and  a  fire  is  built  between  them. 
Upright  posts  with  crotches  at  the  top  are  set,  one  at  each 
end,  and  a  long  pole  is  laid  on  them ;  and  on  this  are  hung 
the  great  caldron  kettles. 

The  huge  hogsheads  are  turned  right  side  up  and 
cleaned  out,  to  receive  the  sap  that  is  gathered.  And 
now  if  there  is  a  good  "sap  run,"  the  establishment  is 
under  full  headway. 

The  great  fire  that  is  kindled  in  the  sugar  camp  is  not 
allowed  to  go  out,  night  or  day,  so  long  as  the  sugar  season 
lasts.  Somebody  is  always  cutting  wood  to  feed  it;  some- 
body is  busy  most  of  the  time  gathering  in  the  sap ;  some- 
body is  required  to  fill  the  kettles  and  see  that  the  sap  does 
not  boil  over. 

It  is  not  the  boy,  however ;  he  is  too  busy  with  things  in 
general  to  be  of  any  use  in  details.  He  has  his  own  little 
sap-yoke  and  small  pails,  with  which  he  gathers  the  sweet 
liquid.  lie  has  a  little  boiling  place  of  his  own,  with  small 
logs  and  a  tiny  kettle. 

In  the  great  kettles  the  boiling  goes  on  slowly,  and  the 
liquid,  as  it  thickens,  is  dipped  from  one  to  the  other,  until 
in  the  end  kettle  it  is  reduced  to  syrup,  and  is  taken  out  to 
cool  and  settle,  until  enough  is  made  to  "  sugar  off."     To 


MAKING    MAPLE    SUGAR.  271 


'*  sugar  off "  is  to  boil  the  syrup  till  it  is  thick  enough 
to  crystallize  into  sugar.  This  is  the  grand  event,  and  is 
only  done  once  in  two  or  three  days. 

Rut  the  boy's  desire  is  to  "  sugar  off "  perpetually.  He 
boils  his  syrup  down  as  rapidly  as  possible ;  he  is  not  par- 
ticular about  chips,  scum,  or  ashes ;  he  is  apt  to  burn  his 
sugar ;  but  if  he  can  get  enough  to  make  a  little  wax  on  the 
snow,  or  to  scrape  from  the  bottom  of  the  kettle,  with  his 
wooden  paddle,  he  is  happy.  A  great  deal  is  wasted  on  his 
hands  and  the  outside  of  his  face  and  his  clothes,  but  he 
does  not  care  —  he  is  nOt  stingy. 

To  watch  the  operations  of  the  big  fire  gives  him  constant 
pleasure.  Sometimes  he  is  left  to  watch  the  boiling  kettles. 
He  has  a  piece  of  pork  tied  on  the  end  of  a  stick,  which  he 
dips  into  the  boiling  mass,  when  it  threatens  to  go  over. 

He  is  constantly  tasting  the  sap  to  see  if  it  is  not  al- 
most syrup.  He  has  a  long  round  stick,  whittled  smooth 
at  the  end,  which  he  uses  for  this  purpose,  at  the  constant 
risk  of  burning  his  tongue. 

The  smoke  blows  in  his  face  ;  he  is  grimy  with  ashes  ;  he 
is  altogether  such  a  mass  of  dirt,  stickiness,  and  sweetness 
that  his  own  mother  would  n't  know  him.  He  likes,  w^ith 
the  hired  man,  to  boil  eggs  in  the  hot  syrup ;  he  likes  to 
roast  potatoes  in  the  ashes ;  and  he  would  live  in  the  camp 
day  and  night  if  he  were  permitted. 

Some  of  the  hired  men  sleep  in  the  shanty  and  keep  the 
fire  blazing  all  night.  To  sleep  there  with  them,  and  awake  in 
the  night  and  hear  the  wind  in  the  trees,  and  see  the  sparks 
fly  up  in  the  sky,  is  a  perfect  realizatioa  of.  all  the  adven- 
tures he  has  ever  read.  He  tells  the  other  boy,  afterward, 
that  he  heard  something  in  the  night  that  sounded  very 
much  like  a  bear.     The  hired  man  says  that  he  was  very 


272  A  FIFTH   READER. 

much  scared  by  the  hooting  of  an  owl.  The  great  occa- 
sions for  the  boy,  though,  are  the  times  of  the  *'  sugaring 
off."  Sometimes  this  used  to  be  done  in  the  evening  and 
it  was  made  the  excuse  for  a  frolic  in  the  camp.  The 
neighbors  were  invited,  and  sometimes  even  the  pretty 
girls  from  the  village,  who  filled  all  the  woods  with  their 
sweet  voices  and  merry  laughter  and  little  affectations  of 
fright. 

At  these  sugar  parties,  every  one  was  expected  to  eat  as 
much  sugar  as  possible ;  and  those  who  are  practiced  in  it 
can  eat  a  great  deal.  It  is  a  peculiarit}^  about  eating  warm 
maple  sugar,  that,  though  you  eat  so  much  of  it  one  day 
jas  to  be  sick  and  loathe  the  thought  of  it,  you  will  want  it 
the  next  day  more  than  ever. 

At  the  "  sugaring  off ''  they  used  to  pour  the  hot  sugar 
upon  the  snow,  where  it  congealed  into  a  sort  of  wax,  with- 
out crystallizing ;  which,  I  do  suppose,  is  the  most  delicious 
substance  that  was  ever  invented  ;  but  it  takes  a  great  while 
to  eat  it.  If  one  should  close  his  teeth  firmly  on  a  ball  of 
it,  he  would  be  unable  to  open  his  mouth  until  it  was 
dissolved.  The  sensation,  while  it  is  melting,  is  very  pleas- 
ant,'but  one  cannot  talk. 

The  boy  used  to  make  a  big  lump  of  this  sugar  wax  and 
give  it  to  the  dog,  who  seized  it  with  great  avidity  and 
closed  his  jaws  on  it,  as  dogs  will  do  on  anything.  It  Avas 
funny,  the  next  moment,  to  see  the  expression  of  surprise  on 
the  dog's  face,  when  he  found  he  could  not  open  his  jaws. 
He  shook  his  head ;  he  sat  down  in  despair ;  he  ran 
round  in  a  circle ;  he  dashed  into  the  woods  and  back  again. 
He  did  everything  except  climb  a  tree  and  howl.  It  would 
have  been  such  a  relief  to  him  if  lie  could  have  hoAvled,  but 
tliat  was  the  one  thing  he  could  not  do. 


ESCAPE   FROM    A   PANTHER. 


273 


L.      ESCAPE    FROM  A   PANTHER, 

By  James  Fenimore  Cooper. 

James  Fenimore  Cooper 
(1789-1851)  was  the  first 
American  novelist  to  gain 
celebrity  for  his  writings  out- 
side of  our  own  country.  His 
strongest  stories  are  those 
of  Indian  life  and  of  the 
sea.  The  "  Leatherstocking 
Tales  "  rank  among  his  best, 
although  his  Indian  charac- 
ters generally  are  endowed 
with  too  many  noble  traits 
for  strict  fidelity  to  the 
truth.  "  The  Pioneers,"  from 
which  the  following  extract 
is  taken,  is  one  of  this 
series.  The  other  Leather- 
stocking  Tales  are  "  The 
Last  of  the  Mohicans,"  "  The 
Prairie,"  "The  Pathfinder," 

and  "  The  Deerslayer."  "  The  Spy,"  a  Revolutionary  story,  was  perhaps 
Cooper's  most  successful  novel,  although  "  The  Pilot  "  and  others  of  his 
sea-stories  gained  an  almost  equal  popularity.  Cooper's  monument  at 
Cooperstown,  N.  Y.,  is  a  tall  shaft  surmounted  by  a  figure  of  Leather- 
stocking. 

ELIZABETH  TEMPLE  and  Louisa  had  gained  the 
summit  of  the  mountain,  where  they  left  the  high- 
way, and  pursued  their  course  under  the  shade  of  the  stately 
trees  that  crowned  the  eminence.  The  day  was  becoming 
warm ;   and  the  giils  plunged  more  deeply  into  the  forest, 

19 — 5r 


JAMES  FENIMORE  COOPER. 


S74  A  FIFTH   READER. 

as  they  found  its  invigorating  coolness  agreeably  contrasted 
to  the  excessive  heat  they  had  experienced  in  their  ascent. 
The  convei-sation,  as  if  by  mutual  consent,  was  entirely 
changed  to  the  little  incidents  and  scenes  of  their  walk ; 
and  every  tall  pine,  and  every  shrub  and  flower,  called  forth 
some  simple  expression  of  admiration. 

In  this  manner  they  proceeded  along  the  margin  of  the 
precipice,  catching  occasional  glimpses  of  the  placid  Otsego, 
or  pausing  to  listen  to  the  rattling  of  wheels  and  the  sounds 
of  hammers  that  rose  from  the  valley  to  mingle  the  signs 
of  men  with  the  scenes  of  nature,  when  Elizabeth  suddenly 
started,  and  exclaimed :  "  Listen  I  there  are  the  cries  of  a 
child  on  this  mountain.  Can  some  little  one  be  strayed  from 
its  parents  ?     It  may  be  a  wanderer,  starving  on  the  hill.'* 

Urged  by  this  consideration,  the  females  pursued  the  low, 
mournful  sounds  that  proceeded  from  the  forest,  with  quick 

and  impatient  steps.  More  than 
once  the  ardent  Elizabeth  was 
on  the  point  of  announcing 
that  she  saw  the  sufferer,  when 
Louisa  caught  her  by  the  arm, 
and,  pointing  behind  them, 
cried,  "  Look  at  the  dog  !  " 
j^    —  The  advanced  age  of  Brave 

had  long  before  deprived  him 
of  his  activity ;  and  when  his  companions  had  stopped  to 
view  the  scenery  or  to  add  to  their  bouquets,  the  mastiff 
would  lay  his  huge  frame  on  the  ground,  and  await  their 
movements  with  his  eyes  closed  and  a  listlessness  in  his 
air  that  ill  accorded  with  the  character  of  a  protector. 

But  when,  aroused  by  this  cry  from  Louisa,  Miss  Temple 
turned,  she  saw  the  dog  with  his  eyes  keenly  set  on  some 


ESCAPE    FROM    A    PANTHER.  275 

distant  object,  his  head  bent  near  the  ground,  and  his  hair 
actually  rising  on  his  bod}^,  either  through  fright  or  anger. 
It  was  most  probably  the  latter ;  for  he  was  growling  in  a 
low  key,  and  occasionally  showing  his  teeth  in  a  manner 
that  would  have  terrified  his  mistress  had  she  not  so  well 
known  his  good  qualities. 

"  Brave !  "  she  said,  ''  be  quiet.  Brave !  what  do  you 
see,  fellow  ?  "  At  the  sounds  of  her  voice,  the  rage  of  the 
mastiff,  instead  of  being  at  all  diminished,  was  very  sensibly 
increased.  He  stalked  in  front  of  the  ladies,  and  seated 
himself  at  the  feet  of  his  mistress,  growling  louder  than 
before,  and  occasionally  giving  vent  to  his  ire  by  a  short, 
surly  barking. 

"  What  does  he  see  ?  "  said  Elizabeth ;  "  there  must  be 
some  animal  in  sight."  Hearing  no  answer  from  her  com- 
panion. Miss  Temple  turned  her  head,  and  beheld  Louisa, 
standing  with  her  face  whitened  to  the  color  of  death,  and 
her  finger  pointing  upward,  with  a  sort  of  flickering,  con- 
vulsed motion. 

The  quick  eye  of  Elizabeth  glanced  in  the  direction  in- 
dicated by  that  of  her  friend,  where  she  saw  the  fierce  front 
and  glaring  eyes  of  a  female  panther,  fixed  on  them 
in  horrid  malignity  and  threatening  instant  destruction. 
"  Let  us  fly !  "  exclaimed  Elizabeth,  grasping  the  arm  of 
Louisa,  whose  form  yielded  like  melting  snow. 

There  was  not  a  single  feeling  in  the  temperament  of 
Elizabeth  Temple  that  could  prompt  her  to  leave  a  com- 
panion in  such  an  extremity;  and  she  fell  on  her  knees 
by  the  side  of  the  inanimate  Louisa,  tearing  from  the  per- 
son of  her  friend,  with  an  instinctive  readiness,  such  parts  of 
her  dress  as  might  obstruct  her  respiration,  and  encouraging 
their  only  safeguard,  the  dog,  at  the  same  time,  by  the  sounds 


276 


A   FIFTH   READER. 


of  her  voice.  "Courage,  Bmve! "  she  cried, — her  own  tones 
beginning  to  tremble,  —  "  courage,  courage,  good  Brave  I  " 
A  quarter-grown  cub,  that  had  hitherto  been  unseen, 
now  appeared  dropping  from  the  branches  of  a  sapling,  that 
grew  under  the  shade  of  a  beech  which  held  its  dam.  This 
ignorant  but  vicious  creature  approached  near  the  dog,  imi- 
tating the  actions  and  sounds  of  its  parent,  but  exhibiting 
a  strange  mixture  of  the  playful- 
ness of  a  kitten  with  the  ferocity  ^^\ 
of  its  race.     Standing  on  its  '  '^ 

hind  legs,  it  would  rend  the 
bark  of  a  tree  with  its  foro    /, 


ATTACKED   BY   A   PANTHER. 


paws,  and  play  all  the  antics  of  a  cat  for  a  moment ;  and 
then,  by  lashing  itself  with  its  tail,  growling,  and  scratch- 
ing the  earth,  it  would  attempt  the  manifestations  of  anger 
that  rendered  its  parent  so  terrific. 

All  this  time  Brave  stood  firm  and  undaunted,  his  short 
tail  erect,  his  body  drawn  backward  on  its  haunches,  and  his 
eyes  following  the  movements  of  both  dam  and  cub.     At 


ESCAPE    FROM    A    PANTHER.  277 

every  gambol  played  by  the  latter,  it  approached  nigher  to 
the  dog,  the  growling  of  the  three  becoming  more  horrid 
at  each  moment,  until  the  younger  beast,  overleaping  its 
intended  bound,   fell  directly  before  the  mastiff. 

There  was  a  moment  of  fearful  cries  and  struggles ;  but 
they  ended  almost  as  soon  as  commenced,  by  the  cub  appear- 
ing in  the  air,  hurled  from  the  jaws  of  Brave  with  a  violence 
that  sent  it  against  a  tree  so  forcibly  as  to  render  it  com- 
pletely senseless.  Elizabeth  witnessed  the  short  struggle, 
and  her  blood  was  warming  with  the  triumph  of  the  dog, 
when  she  saw  the  form  of  the  old  panther  in  the  air,  spring- 
ing twenty  feet  from  the  branch  of  the  beech  to  the  back  of 
the  mastiff.  No  words  of  ours  can  describe  the  fury  of  the 
conflict  that  followed.  It  was  a  confused  struggle  on  the 
dried  leaves,  accompanied  by  loud  and  terrible  cries,  barks, 
and  growls.  Miss  Temple  continued  on  her  knees,  bending 
over  the  form  of  Louisa,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  animals 
with  an  interest  so  horrid,  and  yet  so  intense,  that  she 
almost  forgot  her  own  stake  in  the  result. 

So  rapid  and  vigorous  were  the  bounds  of  the  inhabitant 
of.  the  forest .  that  its  active  frame  seemed  constantly  in 
the  air,  while  the  dog  nobly  faced  his  foe  at  each  successive 
leap.  When  the  panther  lighted  on  the  shoulders  of  the 
mastiff,  which  was  its  constant  aim,  old  Brave,  though  torn 
with  her  talons,  and  stained  with  his  own  blood,  that 
already  flowed  from  a  dozen  wounds,  would  shake  off  his 
furious  foe  like  a  feather,  and,  rearing  on  his  hind  legs, 
rush  to  the  fray  again,  with  his  jaws  distended  and  a 
dauntless  eye:  But  age  and  his  pampered  life  greatly  dis- 
qualified the  noble  mastiff  for  such  a  struggle.  In  every- 
thing but  courage  he  was  only  the  vestige  of  what  he  had 
once  been.     A  higher  bound  than  ever  raised  the  furious 


S78  A   FIFTH   READER. 

beast  far  beyond  the  reach  of  the  dog,  —  who  was  making 
a  desperate  but  fruitless  dash  at  her,  —  from  which  she 
alighted,  in  a  favorable  position,  on  the  back  of  the  dog.  For 
a  moment  only  could  the  panther  remain  there ;  the  great 
strength  of  the  dog  returned  with  a  convulsive  effort. 

But  Elizabeth  saw,  as  Brave  fastened  his  teeth  in  the  side 
of  his  enemy,  that  the  collar  of  brass  around  his  neck  was 
the  color  of  blood,  and,  directly,  that  his  frame  was  sinking 
to  the  earth,  where  it  soon  lay,  prostrate  and  helpless. 
Several  mighty  efforts  of  the  wild  cat  to  extricate  herself 
from  the  jaws  of  the  dog  followed,  but  they  were  fruitless 
until  the  mastiff  turned  on  his  back,  his  lips  collapsed,  and 
his  teeth  loosened;  when  the  short  convulsions  and  stillness 
that  succeeded  announced  the  death  of  poor  Brave. 

Elizabeth  now  lay  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  the  beast. 
The  eyes  of  the  monster  and  the  kneeling  maiden  met  for 
an  instant  when  the  former  stooped  to  examine  her  fallen 
foe ;  next,  to  scent  her  luckless  cub.  From  the  latter 
examination  it  turned,  however,  with  its  eyes  apparently 
emitting  flashes  of  fire,  its  tail  lashing  its  sides  furiously, 
and  its  claws  projecting  for  inches  beyond  its  broad  feet. 

The  moment  seemed  now  to  have  arrived  for  the  fatal 
termination  ;  and  the  beautiful  figure  of  Elizabeth  was  bow- 
ing meekly  to  the  stroke,  when  a  rustling  from  behind 
seemed  rather  to  mock  the  organs  than  to  meet  her  ears. 
"  Hist !  hist !  "  said  a  low  voice  ;  "  stoop  lower,  gal ;  your 
bonnet  hides  the  creature's  head." 

It  was  rather  the  yielding  of  nature  than  a  compliance 
with  this  unexpected  order  that  caused  the  head  of  our 
heroine  to  sink  on  her  bosom  ;  when  she  heard  the  report  of 
the  rifle,  the  whizzing  of  the  bullet,  and  the  enraged  cries  of 
the  beast,  who  was  rolling  on  the  earth,  biting  its  own  flesh, 


THE  ROMANCE  OF   THE  SWAN'S   NEST. 


279 


and  tearing  the  twigs  and  branches  within  its  reach.  At 
the  next  instant  the  form  of  the  Leather-stocking  rushed 
by  her,  and  he  called  aloud :  "  Come  in,  Hector,  you  old 
fool ;   't  is  a  hard-lived  animal,  and  may  jump  ag'in." 

Natty  most  fearlessly  maintained  his  position  in  front 
of  the  maidens,  notwithstanding  the  violent  bounds  and 
threatening  aspect  of  the  wounded  panther,  which  gave 
several  indications  of  returning  strength  and  ferocity,  until 
his  rifle  was  again  loaded,  when  he  stepped  up  to  the  en- 
raged animal,  and,  placing  the  muzzle  close  to  its  head, 
every  spark  of  life  was  extinguished  by  the  discharge. 

From  "  The  Pioneers.''^ 


•  LI.       THE   ROMANCE   OF   THE  SWAN'S  NEST. 

By  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning. 


ITTLE  Ellie  sits  alone 
'Mid  the  beeches  of  a  meadow, 
By  a  stream-side  on  the  grass, 
And  the  trees  are  showering  down 
Doubles  of  their  leaves  in  shadow, 
On  her  shining  hair  and  face. 


S80  A  FIFTH    READER. 


She  has  thrown  her  bonnet  by, 
And  her  feet  she  has  been  dipping, 
In  the  shallow  water's  flow; 
Now  she  holds  them  nakedly 

In  her  hands,  all  sleek  and  dripping 
While  she  rocketh  to  and  fro. 

Little  Ellie  sits  alone. 

And  the  smile  she  softly  uses 
Fills  the  silence  like  a  speech. 
While  she  thinks  what  shall  be  done, 
And  the  sweetest  pleasure  chooses 
For  her  future  within  reach. 

Little  Ellie,  in  her  smile, 

Chooses,  "  I  will  have  a  lover 
Riding  on  a  steed  of  steeds; 
He  shall  love  me  without  guile. 
And  to  him  I  will  discover 

The  swan's  nest  among  the  reeds. 

"And  the  steed  shall  be  red-roan, 
And  the  lover  shall  be  noble, 

With  an  eye  that  takes  the  breath; 
And  the  lute  he  plays  upon 
Shall  strike  ladies  into  trouble, 

And  his  sword  strike  men  to  death. 

"And  the  steed  it  shall  be  shod 
All  in  silver,  housed  in  azure ; 

And  the  mane  shall  swim  the  wind; 
And  the  hoofs  along  the  sod 

Shall  flasii  onward,  and  keep  measure, 
Till  the  shepherds  look  behind. 


THE    ROMANCE    OF    THE    SWAN'S    NEST.  281 

"But  my  lover  will  not  prize 
All  the  glory  that  he  rides  in, 
When  he  gazes  in  my  face. 
He  will  say,  'O  Love,  thine  eyes 
Build  the  shrine  my  soul  abides  in, 
And  I  kneel  here  for  thy  grace ! ' 

''  Then,  ay,  then  he  shall  kneel  low, 
With  the  red-roan  steed  anear  him. 
Which  shall  seem  to  understand. 
Till  I  answer,  'Rise  and  go.' 

For  the  world  must  love  and  fear  him 
Whom  I  gift  with  heart  and  hand. 

"Then  he  will  arise  so  pale, 

I  shall  feel  my  own  lips  tremble 
With  a  '  yes '  I  must  not  say : 
Nathless  maiden-brave,  '  Farewell,' 
I  will  utter  and  dissemble ;  — 
'Light  to-morrow  with  to-day!' 

"  Then  he  '11  ride  among  the  hills 
To  the  wide  world  past  the  river, 
There  to  put  away  all  wrong, 
To  make  straight  distorted  wills. 
And  to  empty  the  broad  quiver 
Which  the  wicked  bear  along. 

"Three  times  shall  a  young  foot-page 

Swim  the  stream,  and  climb  the  mountain, 
And  kneel  down  beside  my  feet: 
*Lo!  my  master  sends  this  gage. 
Lady,  for  thy  pity's  counting. 

What  wilt  thou  exchange  for  it?' 


282  A   FIFTH    READER. 


"And  the  first  time  I  will  send 
A  white  rosebud  for  a  guerdon, 
And  the  second  time,  a  glove; 
But  the  third  time  \  may  bend 

From  my  pride,  and  answer,  —  '  Pardon, 
If  he  comes  to  take  my  love.' 

"Then  the  young  foot-page  will  run; 
Then  my  lover  will  ride  faster, 
Till  he  kneeleth  at  my  knee: 
*I  am  a  duke's  eldest  son, 

Thousand  serfs  do  call  me  master, 
But,  O  Love,  I  love  but  thee!* 

"He  will  kiss  me  on  the  mouth 
Then,  and  lead  me  as  a  lover 

Through  the  crowds  that  praise  his  deeds. 
And,  when  soul-tied  by  one  troth, 
Unto  him  I  will  discover 

That  swan's  nest  among  the  reeds." 

Little  Ellie  with  her  smile 
Not  yet  ended,  rose  up  gayly, 

Tied  the  bonnet,  donned  the  shoe. 
And  went  homeward,  round  a  mile. 
Just  to  see,  as  she  did  daily, 

What  more  eggs  were  with  the  two. 

Pushing  through  the  elm-tree  copse. 
Winding  up  the  stream,  light-hearted, 
Where  the  osier  pathway  leads. 
Past  the  boughs  slie  stoops  and  stops. 
Lo^  the  wild  swan  had  deserted, 
And  a  rat  had  gnawed  the  reeds! 


THE    STORY    OF    JOSEPH.  283 

Ellie  went  home  sad  and  slow. 
If  she  found  the  lover  ever, 

With  his  red-roan  steed  of  steeds, 
Sooth  I  know  not;  but  I  know 

She  could  never  show  him  —  never, 
That  swan's  nest  among  the  reeds. 


LII.     THE   STORY   OF  JOSEPH. 

Genesis,  Chapters  xxxvii-xlv. 

AND  Jacob  dwelt  in  the  land  wherein  his  father  was 
a  stranger,  in  the  land  of  Canaan.  These  are  the 
generations  of  Jacob.  Joseph,  being  seventeen  years  old, 
was  feeding  the  flock  with  his  brethren ;  and  the  lad  was 
with  the  sons  of  Bilhah,  and  with  the  sons  of  Zilpah,  his 
father's  wives ;  and  Joseph  brought  unto  his  father  their 
evil  report.  Now  Israel  loved  Joseph  more  than  all  his 
children,  because  he  was  the  son  of  his  old  age :  and  he 
made  him  a  coat  of  many  colors.  And  when  his  brethren 
saw  that  their  father  loved  him  more  than  all  his  brethren, 
-they  hated  him,  and  could  not  speak  peaceably  unto  him. 

And  Joseph  dreamed  a  dream,  and  he  told  it  his  breth- 
ren :  and  they  hated  him  yet  the  more.  And  he  said  unto 
them.  Hear,  I  pray  you,  this  dream  which  I  have  dreamed : 
For,  behold,  we  were  binding  sheaves  in  the  field,  and,  lo, 
my  sheaf  arose,  and  also  stood  upright ;  and,  behold,  your 
sheaves  stood  round  about,  and  made  obeisance  to  my 
sheaf.  And  his  brethren  said  to  him,  Shalt  thou  indeed 
reign  over  us?  or  shalt  thou  indeed  have  dominion  over 
us?  And  they  hated  him  yet  the  more  for  his  dreams 
and  for  his  words. 


284 


A   FIFTH    READER. 


And  he  dreamed  yet  another  dream,  and  told  it  his 
brethren,  and  said,  Behold,  I  have  dreamed  a  dream  more ; 
and,  behold,  the  sun  and  the  moon  and  the  eleven  stars 
made  obeisance  to  me.  And  he  told  it  to  his  father,  and 
to  his  brethren  :  and  his  father  rebuked  him,  and  said  unto 
him,  What  is  this   dream  that  thou  hast  dreamed  ?     Shall 


1                              1 

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\^!p  ■           3 

^^^^^^^^^^^HSP' ' 

Whi 

h'^' 

^      ;A 

Pfl^'-'irP 

ink:-    nJ 

a-'*' 

SLi^uvf^  ^mpi 

P^ 

^J^^^^^^L^^^^^^^ 

Kathakl. 


JOSEPH'S   DREAMS. 


I  and  thy  mother  and  thy  brethren  indeed  come  to  bow 
down  ourselves  to  thee  to  the  earth  ?  And  his  brethren 
envied  him ;  but  his  father  observed  the  saying. 

And  his  brethren  weiit  to  feed  their  father's  flock  in 
Shechem.  And  Israel  said  unto  Joseph,  Do  not  thy  breth- 
ren feed  the  flock  in  Shechem  ?  Come,  and  I  will  send  thee 
unto  them.     And  he  said  to  him.  Here  am  I.     And  he  said 


THE   STORY    OF    JOSEPH.  285 

to  him,  Go,  I  pray  thee,  see  whether  it  be  well  with  thy 
brethren,  anql  well  with  the  flocks;  and  bring  me  word 
again.  So  he  sent  him  out  of  the  vale  of  Hebron,  and  he 
came  to  Shechem.  " 

And  a  certain  man  found  him,  and,  behold,  he  was  wan- 
dering in  the  field :  and  the  man  asked  him,  saying.  What 
seekest  thou  ?  And  he  said,  I  seek  my  brethren :  tell  me, 
I  pray  thee,  where  they  feed  their  flocks.  And  the  man 
said,  They  are  departed  hence;  for  I  heard  them  say,  Let 
us  go  to  Dothan.  And  Joseph  went  after  his  brethren,  and 
found  them  in  Dothan.  And  when  they  saw  him  afar  off, 
even  before  he  came  near  unto  them,  they  conspired  against 
him  to  slay  him.  And  they  said  one  to  another.  Behold, 
this  di'eamer  cometh.  Come  now  therefore,  and  let  us  slay 
him,  and  cast  him  into  some  pit,  and  we  will  say.  Some 
evil  beast  hath  devoured  him :  and  we  shall  see  what  will 
become  of  his  dreams.  And  Reuben  heard  it,  and  he  de- 
livered him  out  of  their  hands ;  and  said,  Let  us  not  kill 
him.  And  Reuben  said  unto  them,  Shed  no  blood,  but 
cast  him  into  this  pit  that  is  in  the  wilderness,  and  lay  no 
hand  upon  him ;  that  he  might  rid  him  out  of  their  hands, 
to  deliver  him  to  his  father  again* 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  Joseph  was  come  unto  his 
brethren,  that  they  stripped  Joseph  out  of  his  coat,  his  coat  of 
many  colors  that  was  on  him ;  and  they  took  him,  and  cast 
him  into  a  pit :  and  the  pit  was  empty,  there  was  no  water 
in  it.  And  they  sat  down  to  eat  bread  :,  and  they  lifted  up 
their  eyea  and  looked,  and,  behold,  a  company  of  Ishmael- 
ites  came  from  Gilead,  with  their  camels  bearing  spicery 
and  baljn  and  myrrji,,  going  to  carry  it  down  to  Egypt. 
And  Judah  said  unto  his  brethren,  What  profit  is  it  if  we 
slay  our  brother,  and  conceal  his  blood?     Come,  and  let  us 


286  A  FIFTH   READER. 

sell  him  to  the  Ishmaelites,  and  let  not  our  hand  be  upon 
him  ;  for  he  is  our  brother  and  our  flesh.  And  his  brethren 
were  extent.  Then  there  passed  by  Midianites  merchant- 
men ;  and  they  drew  and  lifted  up  Joseph  out  of  the  pit, 
and  sold  Joseph  to  the  Ishmaelites  for  twenty  pieces  of 
silver :  and  they  brought  Joseph  into  Egypt. 

And  Reuben  returned  unto  the  pit;  and,  behold,  Joseph 
was  not  in  the  pit ;  and  he  rent  his  clothes. 

And  he  returned  unto  his  brethren,  and  said,  The  child 
is  not ;  and  T,  whither  shall  I  go  ?  And  they  took  Joseph's 
coat,  and  killed  a  kid  of  the  goats,  and  dipped  the  coat  in 
the  blood  ;  and  they  sent  the  coat  of  many  colors,  and  they 
brought  it  to  their  father,  and  said,  This  have  we  found : 
know  now  whether  it  be  thy  son's  coat  or  no.  And  he 
knew  it,  and  said,  It  is  my  son's  coat ;  an  evil  beast  hath 
devoured  him ,  Joseph  is  without  doubt  rent  in  pieces. 
And  Jacob  rent  his  clothes,  and  put  sackcloth  upon  his 
loins,  and  mourned  for  his  son  many  days.  And  all  his 
sons  and  all  his  daughters  rose  up  to  comfort  him ;  but  he 
refused  to  be  comforted ;  and  he  said.  For  I  will  go  down 
into  the  grave  unto  my  son  mourning.  Thus  his  father 
wept  for  him.  And  the  Midianites'  sold  him  into  Egypt 
unto  Potiphar,  an  officer  of  Pharaoh's,  and  captain  of  the 
guard.  And  Joseph  was  brought  down  to  Egypt,  and 
Potiphar,  an  officer  of  Pharaoh,  captain  of  the  guard,  an 
Egyptian,  bought  him  of  the  hands  of  the  Ishmaelites, 
which  had  brought  him  down  thither.  And  the  Lord  was 
with  Joseph,  and  he  was  a  prosperous  man ;  and  he  was  in 
the  house  of  his  master  the  Egyptian.  And  his  master 
saw  that  the  Lord  was  with  him,  and  that  the  Lord  made 
all  that  he  did  to  prosper  in  his  hand.  And  Joseph  found 
grace  in  his  sight,  and  he  served  him :  and  he  made  him 


'The  story  of  Joseph.  287 

overseer  over  his  house,  and  all  that  he  had  he  put  into  his 
hand.  And  it  came  to  pass  from  the  time  that  he  made 
him  overseer  in  his  house,  and  over  all  that  he  had,  that 
the  Lord  blessed  the  Egyptian's  house  for  Joseph's  sake ; 
and  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  was  upon  all  that  he  had  in 
the  house,  and  in  the  field.  And  he  left  all  that  he  had  in  , 
Joseph's  hand ;  and  he  knew  not  aught  he  had,  save  the 
bread  which  he  did  eat.  And  Joseph  was  a  goodly  person, 
and  well  favored. 

And  Joseph's  master  took  him,  and  put  him  into  the 
prison,  a  place  where  the  king's  prisoners  were  bound: 
and  he  was  there  in  the  prison. 

A 

And  it  came  to,  pass  at  the  end  of  two  full  years,  that 

Pharaoh  dreamed :  and,  behold,  he  stood  by  the  river.  And, 
behold,  there  came  up  out  of  the  river  seven  well-favored 
kine  and  fat-fleshed ;  and  they  fed  in  a  meadow.  And,  be- 
hold, seven  other  kine  came  up  after  them  out  of  the  river, 
ill-favored  and  lean-fleshed,  and  stood  by  the  other  kine 
upon  the  brink  of  the  river.  And  the  ill-favored  and  lean- 
fleshed  kine  did  eat  up  the  seven  well-favored  and  fat  kine. 
So  Pharaoh  awoke.  And  he  slept  and  dreamed  the  second 
time:  and,  behold,  seven  ears  of  corn  came  up  upon  one 
stalk,  rank  and  good.  And,  behold,  seven  thin  ears  and 
blasted  with  the  east  wind  sprung  up  after  them.  And  the 
seven  thin  ears  devoured  the  seven  rank  and  full  ears.  And 
Pharaoh  awoke,  and,  behold,  it  was  a  dream.  And  it  came 
to  pass  in  the  morning  that  his  spirit  was  troubled ;  and  he 
sent  and  called  for  all  the  magicians  of  Egypt,  and  all  the 
wise  men  thereof:  and  Pharaoh  told  them  his  dream;  but 
there  was  none  that  could  injerprgt  them  unto  Pharaoh. 


S88  A   FIFTH   READER. 

Then  spake  the  chief  butler  unto  Pharaoh,  saying,  I  do 
remember  my  faults  this  day :  Pharaoh  was  wroth  with  his 
servants,  and  pilt  me  in  ward  in  the  captain  of  the  guard's 
house,  both  me  and  the  chief  baker :  and  we  dreamed  a  dream 
in  one  night,  I  and  he :  we  dreamed  each  man  according  to 
the  interpretation  of  his  dream.  And  there  was  there  with 
us  a  young  man,  a  Hebrew,  servant  to  the  captain  of  the 
guard;  and  we  told  him,  and  he  interpreted  to  us  our 
dreams ;  to  each  man  according  to  his  dream  he  did  interpret. 
And  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  interpreted  to  us,  so  it  was ;  me 
he  restored  unto  mine  office,  and  him  he  hanged. 

Then  Pharaoh  sent  and  called  Joseph,  and  they  brought 
him  hastily  out  of  the  dungeon :  and  he  shaved  himself,  and 
changed  his  raiment,  and  came  in  unto  Pharaoh.  And 
Pharaoh  said  unto  Joseph,  I  have  dreamed  a  dream,  and 
there  is  none  that  can  interpret  it :  and  I  have  heard  say  of 
thee,  that  thou  canst  understand  a  dream  to  interpret  it. 
And  Joseph  answered  Pharaoh,  saying.  It  is  not  in  me :  God 
shall  give  Pharaoh  an  answer  of  peace.  And  Pharaoh  said 
unto  Joseph,  In  my  dream,  behold,  I  stood  upon  the  bank  of 
the  river:  .and,  behold,  there  came  up  out  of  the  river  seven 
kine,  fat-fleshed  and  well-favored;  and  they  fed  in  a 
meadow ;  and,  behold,  seven  other  kine  came  up  after  them, 
poor  and  very  ill-favored  and  lean-fleshed,  such  as  I  never 
saw  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt  for  badness ;  and  the  lean  and 
the  ill-favored  kine  did  eat  up  the  first  seven  fat  kine ;  and 
when  they  had  eaten  them  up,  it  could  not  be  known  that 
they  had  eaten  them ;  but  they  were  still  ill-favored,  as  at 
the  beginning.  So  I  awoke.  And  I  saw  in  my  dream,  and, 
behold,  seven  ears  came  up  in  one  stalk,  full  and  good :  and, 
behold,  seven  ears,  withered,  thin  and  blasted  with  the  east 
wind,  sprung  up  after  them :  and  the  thin  ears  devoured  the 


THE    STORY    OF   JOSEPH. 


289 


seven  good  ears :  and  I  told  this  unto  the  magicians ;  but 
there  was  none  that  could  declare  it  to  me.  ' 

And  Joseph  said  unto  Pharaoh,  The  dream  of  Pharaoh  is 
one :  God  hath  shewed  Pharaoh  what  he  (is  about  to  do. 
The  seven  good  kine  are  seven  years ;  and  the  seven  good 
ears  are  seven  years :  the  di'eam  is  one,  and  the  seven  thin 


Kapha  tL. 


JOSEPH    INTERPRETING    PHARAOH  S    DREAM. 


and  ill-favored  kine  that  came  up  after  them  are  seven 
years;  and  the  seven  empty  ears  blasted  with  the  east  wind 
shall  be  seven  years  of  famine.  This  is  the  thing  which  I 
have  spoken  unto  Pharaoh:  What  God  is  about  to  do  he 
sheweth  unto  Pharaoh.  Behold,  there  come  seven  years  of 
great  plenty  throughout  all  the  land  of  Egypt :  and  there 

20— 5  k 


290  '  A   FIFTH    READER. 

shall  arise  after  them  seven  years  of  famine;  and  all  the 
plenty  shall  be  forgotten  in  the  land  of  Egypt;  and  the 
famine  shall  consume  the  land ;  and  the  plenty  shall  not  be 
known  in  the  land  by  reason  of  that  famine  following ;  for 
it  shall  be  very  grievous.  And  for  that  the  dre^-m  was 
doubled  unto  Pharaoh  twice;  it  is  because  the  thing  is 
established  by  God,  and  God  will  shortly  bring  it  to  pass. 
Now  therefore  let  Pharaoh  look  out  a  man  discreet  and  wise, 
and  set  him  over  the  land  of  Egypt.  Let  Pharaoh  do  this, 
and  let  him  appoint  officers  over  the  land  and  tak^  up  the 
fifth  part  of  the  land  of  Egypt  in  the  seven  plenteous  years. 
And  let  them  gather  all  the  food  of  those  good  years  that 
come,  and  lay  up  corn  under  the  hand  of  Pharaoh,  and  let 
them  keep  food  in  the  cities.  And  that  food  shall  be  for 
store  to  the  land  against  the  seven  years  of  famine,  which 
shall  be  in  the  land  of  Egypt;  that  the  land  perish  not 
through  famine. 

And  the  thing  was  good  in  the  eyes  of  Pharaoh,  and  in  the 
eyes  of  all  his  servants.  And  Pharaoh  said  unto  his  ser- 
vants. Can  we  find  such  a  one  as  this  is,  a  man  in  whom  the 
spirit  of  God  is  ?  And  Pharaoh  said  unto  Joseph,  Forasmuch 
as  God  hath  shewed  thee  all  this,  there  is  none  so  discreet 
and  wise  as  thou  art:  Thou  shalt  be  over  my  house,  and 
according  unto  thy  word  shall  all  my  people  be  ruled :  only 
in  the  throne  will  I  be  greater  than  thou.  And  Pharaoh 
said  unto  Joseph,  See,  I  have  set  thee  over  all  the  land  of 
Egypt.  And  Pharaoh  took  off  his  ring  from  his  hand,  and 
put  it  upon  Joseph's  hand^  and  arrayed  him  in  vestures  of 
fine  linen,  and  put  a  gold  chain  about  his  neck ;  and  he 
made  him  to  ride  in  the  second  chariot  which  he  had,  and 
they  cried  before  him,  Bow  the  knee :  and  he  made  him 
ruler  over  all  the  land  of  Egypt.     And  Pharaoh  said  unto 


THE    STORY    OF    JOSEPH.  291 

Joseph,  I  am  Pharaoh,  and  without  thee  shall  no  man  lift  up 
his  hand  or  foot  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt.  And  Pharaoh 
called  Joseph's  name  Zaphnath-paaneah ;  and  he  gave  him  to 
wife  Asenath  the  daughter  of  Poti-pherah  priest  of  On. 

And  Joseph  was  thirty  years  old  when  he  stood  before 
Pharaoh  king  of  Egypt.  And  Joseph  went  out  from  the 
presence  of  Pharaoh,  and  went  throughout  all  the  land  of 
Egypt.  And  in  the  seven  plenteous  years  the  earth  brought 
forth  by  handfuls.  And  he  gathered  up  all  the  food  of  the 
seven  years,  which  were  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  and  laid  up 
the  food  in  the  cities :  the  food  of  the  field,  which  was 
round  about  every  city,  laid  he  up  in  the  same.  And 
Joseph  gathered  corn  as  the  sand  of  the  sea,  very  much, 
until  he  left  numbering ;  for  it  was  without  number.  And 
unto  Joseph  were  born  two  sons,  before  the  years  of  famine 
came.  And  Joseph  called  the  name  of  the  firstborn 
Manasseh :  For  God,  said  he,  hath  made  me  forget  all  my 
toil,  and  all  my  father's  house.  And  the  name  of  the  second 
called  he  Ephraim :  For  God  hath  caused  me  to  be  fruitful 
in  the  land  of  my  affliction. 

And  the  seven  years  of  plenteousness  that  was  in  the  land 
of  Egypt  were  ended.  And  the  seven  years  of  dearth  began 
to  come,  according  as  Joseph  had  said :  and  the  dearth  was 
in  all  lands ;  but  in  all  the  land  of  Egypt  there  was  bread. 
And  when  all  the  land  of  Egypt  was  famished,  the  people 
cried  to  Pharaoh  for  bread :  and  Pharaoh  said  unto  all  the 
Egyptians,  Go  imto  Joseph;  what  he  saith  to  you,  do. 
And  the  famine  was  over  all  the  face  of  the  earth:  and 
Joseph  opened  all  the  storehouses,  and  sold  unto  the  Egyp- 
tians; and  the  famine  waxed  sore  in  the  land  of  Egypt. 
And  all  countries  came  into  Egypt  to  Joseph  for  to  buy 
corn ;  because  that  the  famine  was  so  sore  in  all  lands. 


292  A   FIFTH   READER. 


Mow  when  Jacob  saw  that  there  was  corn  in  Egypt,  Jacob 
said  unto  his  sons,  Why  do  ye  look  one  upon  another?  And 
he  said,  Behold  I  have  heard  that  there  is  corn  in  Egypt; 
get  you  down  thither,  and  buy  for  us  froin  thence ;  that  we 
may  live,  and  not  die. 

And  Joseph's  ten  brethren  went  down  to  buy  corn  in 
Egypt.  But  Benjamin,  Joseph's,  brother,  Jacob  sent  not 
with  his  brethren;  for  he  said.  Lest  peradventure  mischief 
befall  him.  And  the  sons  of  Israel  came  to  buy  corn  among 
those  that  came :  for  the  famine  was  in  the  land  of  Canaan. 
And  Joseph  was  the  governor  over  the  land,  and  he  it  was 
that  sold  to  all  the  people  of  the  land :  and  Joseph's  brethren 
came,  and  bowed  down  themselves  before  him  with  their 
faces  to  the  earth.  And  Joseph  saw  his  brethren,  and  he 
knew  them,  but  made  himself  strange  unto  them,  and  spake 
roughly  unto  them ;  and  he  said  unto  them,  Whence  come 
ye  ?  And  they  said,  From  the  land  of  Canaan  to  buy  food. 
And  Joseph  knew  his  brethren,  but  they  knew  not  him. 
And  Joseph  remembered  the  dreams  which  he  dreamed  of 
them,  and  said  unto  them.  Ye  are  spies ;  to  see  the  naked- 
ness of  the  land  ye  are  come.  .  And  they  said  unto  him, 
Nay,  my  lord,  but  to  buy  food  are  thy  servants  come. 
We  are  twelve  brethren,  the  sons  of  one  man  in  the 
land  of  Canaan;  and  behold,  the  youngest  is  this  day  with 
our  father,  and  one  is  not.  And  Joseph  said  unto  them. 
That  is  it  that  I  spake  unto  .you  saying.  Ye  are  spies: 
Hereby  ye  shall  be  proved :  By  the  life  of  Pharaoh  ye  shall 
not  go  forth  hence,  except  your  youngest  brother  come 
hither.  Send  one  of  you,  and  let  him  fetch  your  brother, 
and  ye  shall  be  kept  in  prison,  that  your  words  may  be 
proved,  whether  there  be  any  truth  in  you ;  or  elso  by  tlie 
life   of   Pharaoh  surely  ye   are  spies.     And  he   put  them 


THE    STORY   OF    JOSEPH.  293 

all  together  into  ward  three  days.  And  Joseph  said  unto 
them  the  third  day,  This  do,  and  live,  for  I  fear  God:  If 
ve  be  true  men,  let  one  of  your  brethren  be  bound  in  the 
house  of  your  prison :  go  ye,  carry  ccvn  for  the  famine  of 
your  houses,  but  bring yyour  youngest  brother  unto  me;  so 
shall  your  words  be  verified,  and  ye  shall  not  die.  And  they  ^ 
did  so. 

And  they  said  one  to  another,  We  are  verily  guilty  con- 
cerning our  brother,  in  that  we  saw  the  anguish  of  his  soul 
when  he  besought  us,  and  we  would  not  hear ;  therefore  is 
this  distress  come  upon  us.  And  Reuben  answered  them, 
saying.  Spake  I  not  unto  you,  saying.  Do  not  sin  against 
the  child ;  and  ye  would  not  hear  ?  therefore,  behold,  also 
his  blood  is  required.  And  they  knew  not  that  Joseph 
understood  them;  for  he  spake  unto  them  by  an  interpreter. 
And  he  turned  himself  about  from  them,  and  wept;  and 
returned  to  them  again,  and  commuued  with  them,  and  took 
from  them  Simeon,  and  bound  him  before  their  eyes. 

Then  Joseph  commanded  to  fill  their  sacks  with  corn,  and 
to  restore  every  man's  money  into  his  sack,  and  to  give  them 
provision  for  the  way :  and  thus  did  he  unto  them.  And 
they  laded  their  asses  with  the  corn  and  departed  thence. 
And  as  one  of  them  opened  his  sack  to  give  his  ass  prov- 
ender in  the  inn,  he  espied  his  money ;  for  behold  it  was 
in  his  sack's  mouth.  And  he  said  unto  his  brethren,  My 
money  is  restored ;  and,  lo,  it  is  even  in  my  sack :  and  their 
heart  failed  them,  and  they  were  afraid,  saying  one  to 
another.  What  is  this  that  God  hath  done  unto  us  ? 

And  they  came  unto  Jacob  their  father  unto  the  land 
of  Canaan,  and  told  him  all  that  befell  unto  them.  And 
it  came  to  pass  as  they  emptied  their  sacks  that,  behold, 
every  man's  bundle  of  money  was  in  his  sack :   and  when 


294  A   FIFTH    READER. 

both  they  and  their  father  saw  the  bundles  of  money, 
they  were  afraid.  And  Jacob  their  father  said  unto  them, 
Me  have  ye  bereaved  of  my  children :  Joseph  is  not,  and 
Simeon  is  not,  and  ye  will  take  Benjamin  away :  all  these 
things  are  against  me.  And  Reuben  spake  unto  his  father, 
saying.  Slay  my  two  sons,  if  I  bring  him  not  to  thee  :  deliver 
him  into  my  hand,  and  I  will  bring  him  to  thee  again.  And 
he  said.  My  son  shall  not  go  down  with  you ;  for  his  brother 
is  dead,  and  he  is  left  alone :  if  mischief  befall  him  by  the 
way  in  the  which  ye  go,  then  shall  ye  bring  down  my  gray 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave. 

And  the  famine  was  sore  in  the  land.  And  it  came  to 
pass,  when  they  had  eaten  up  the  corn  which  they  had 
brought  out  of  Egypt,  their  father  said  unto  them,  Go  again, 
buy  us  a  little  food.  And  Judah  spake  unto  him,  saying. 
The  man  did  solemnly  protest  unto  us,  saying,  Ye  shall  not 
-see  my  face,  except  your  brother  be  with  you.  If  thou  wilt 
send  our  brother  with  us,  we  will  go  down  and  buy  thee 
food :  but  if  thou  wilt  not  send  him,  we  will  not  go  down : 
for  the  man  said  unto  us.  Ye  shall  not  see  my  face,  except 
your  brother  be  with  you.  And  Israel  said,  Wherefore  dealt 
ye  so  ill  with  me,  as  to  tell  the  man  whether  ye  had  yet  a 
brother  ?  And  they  said.  The  man  asked  us  straitly  of  our 
state,  and  of  our  kindred,  saying,  Is  your  father  yet  alive  ? 
have  ye  another  brother  ?  and  we  told  him  according  to  the 
tenor  of  these  words :  Could  we  certainly  know  that  he 
would  say,  Bring  your  brother  down?  And  Judah  said  unto 
Israel  his  father.  Send  the  lad  with  me,  and  we  will  arise 
and  go ;  that  we  may  live,  and  not  die,  both  we,  and  thou, 
and  also  our  little  ones.  I  will  be  surety  for  him ;  of  my 
hand  shalt  thou  require  him :  if  I  bring  him  not  unto  thee, 
and  set  him  before  thee,  then  let  me  bear  the  blame  for  ever : 


THE    STORY    OF    JOSEPH.  295 

for  except  we  had  lingered,  surely  now  we  had  returned  this 
second  time.  And  their  father  Israel  said  unto  them,  If  it 
must  be  so  now,  do  this ;  take  of  the  best  fruits  in  the  land 
in  your  vessels,  and  carry  down  the  man  a  present,  a  little 
balm,  and  9,  little  honey,  spices  and  myrrh,  nuts  and  almonds  : 
^and  take  double  money  in  your  hand ;  and  the  money  that 
was  brought  again  in  the  mouth  of  your  sacks,  carry  it  again 
in  your  hand ;  peradventure  it  was  an  oversight.  Take  also 
your  brother,  and  arise,  go  again  unto  the  man :  and  God 
Almighty  give  you  mercy  before  the  man,  that  he  may  send 
away  your  other  brother  and  Benjamin.  If  I  be  bereaved 
of  my  children,  I  am  bereaved. 

And  the  men  took  that  present,  and  they  took  double 
money  in  their  hand,  and  Benjamin ;  and  rose  up,  and  went 
down  to  Egypt,  and  stood  before  Joseph.  And  when  Joseph 
saw  Benjamin  with  them,  he  said  to  the  ruler  of  his  house. 
Bring  these  men  home,  and  slay,  and  make  ready ;  for  these 
men  shall  dine  with  me  at  noon.  And  the  man  did  as 
Joseph  bade ;  and  the  man  brought  the  men  into  Joseph's 
house.  And  the  men  were  afraid,  because  they  were  brought 
into  Joseph's  house ;  and  they  said.  Because  of  the  money 
that  was  returned  in  our  sacks  at  the  first  time  are  we 
brought  in ;  that  he  may  seek  occasion  against  us,  and  fall 
upon  us,  and  take  us  for  bondmen,  and  our  asses.  And  they 
came  near  to  the  ste\<^ard  af  Joseph's  house,  and  they  com- 
muned with  him  at  the  door  of  the  house,  and  said,  O  sir, 
we  came  indeed  down  at  the  first  time  to  buy  food:  and  it 
came  to  pass,  Avhen  we  came  to  the  inn,  that  we  opened  our 
sacks,  and,  behold,  every  man's  money  was  in  the  mouth  of 
his  sack,  our  money  in  full  weight ;  and  we  have  brought  it 
again  in  our  hand.  And  other  money  have  w^e  brought  down 
in  our  hands  to  buy  food :  we  cannot  tell  who  put  our  money 


296  A   FIFTH   READER. 

in  our  sacks.  And  he  said,  Peace  be  to  you,  fear  not :  your 
God,  and  the  God  of  your  fatlier,  hath  given  you  treasure  in 
your  sacks ;  I  had  your  money.  And  he  brought  Simeon 
out  unto  them.  And  the  man  brought  the  men  into  Joseph's 
house,  and  gave  them  water,  and  they  washed  their  feet ;  and 
he  gave  their  asses  provender.  And  they  made  ready  the 
present  against  Joseph  came  at  noon :  for  they  heard  that 
they  should  eat  bread  there. 

And  when  Joseph  came  home,  they  brought  him  the  pres- 
ent which  was  in  their  hand  into  the  house,  and  bowed 
themselves  to  him  to  the  earth.  And  he  asked  them  of  their 
welfare,  and  said,  Is  your  father  well,  the  old  man  of  whom 
ye  spake  ?  Is  he  yet  alive  ?  And  they  answered.  Thy  servant 
our  father  is  in  good  health,  he  is  yet  alive.  And  they 
bowed  down  their  heads,  and  made  obeisance.  And  he 
lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  saw  his  brother  Benjamin,  his  mother's 
son,  and  said.  Is  this  your  younger  brother,  of  whom  ye 
spake  unto  me  ?  And  he  said,  God  be  gracious  imto  thee, 
my  son.  And  Joseph  made  haste ;  for  liis  bowels  did  yearn 
upon  his  brother,  and  he  sought  where  to  weep ;  and  he 
entered  into  his  chamber,  and  wept  there.  And  he  washed 
his  face,  and  went  out,  and  refrained  himself,  and  said.  Set 
on  bread.  And  they  set  on  for  him  by  himself,  and  for 
them  by  themselves,  and  for  the  Egyptians,  which  did  eat 
with  him,  by  themselves :  because  the  Egyptians  might  not 
eat  bread  with  the  Hebrews ;  for  that  is  an  abomination 
unt©  the  Egyptians.  And  they  sat  before  him,  the  firstborn 
according  to  his  birthright,  and  the  youngest  according  to 
his  youth :  and  the  men  marveled  one  at  another.  And  he 
took  and  sent  messes  unto  them  from  before  him:  but 
Benjamin's  mess  was  five  times  so  much  as  any  of  theirs. 
And  they  drank,  and  were  merry  with  hiuL 


THE    STORY    OP    JOSEPH.  297 


And  he  commanded  the  steward  of  his  house,  saying, 
Fill  the  men's  sacks  with  food,  as  much  as  they  can  carry, 
and  put  every  man's  money  in  his  sack's  mouth.  And  put 
my  cup,  the  silver  cup,  in  the  sack's  mouth  of  the  youngest, 
and  his  corn  money.  And  he  did  according  to  the  word 
that  Joseph  had  spoken.  As  soon  as  the  morning  was 
light,  the  men  were  sent  away,  they  and  their  asses.  And 
when  they  were  gone  out  of 'the  city,  and  not  yet  far  off, 
Joseph  said  unto  his  steward,  Up,  follow  after  the  men; 
and  when  thou  dost  overtake  them,  say  unto  them.  Where- 
fore have  ye  rewarded  evil  for  good?  Is  not  this  it  in 
which  my  lord  drinketh,  and  whereby  indeed  he  divineth  ? 
ye  have  done  evil  in  so  doing. 

And  he  overtook  them,  and  he  spake  unto  them  these 
same  words.  And  they  said  unto  him,  Wherefore  saith  my 
lord  these  words?  God  forbid  that  thy  servants  should 
do  according  to  this  thing:  behold,  the  money,  which  was 
found  in  our  sacks'  mouths,  we  brought  again  unto  thee 
out  of  the  land  of  Canaan :  how  then  should  we  steal  out 
of  thy  lord's  house  silver  or  gold?  With  whomsoever  of 
thy  servants  it  be  found,  both  let  him  die,  and  we  also  will 
be  my  lord's  bondmen.  And  he  said.  Now  also  let  it  be 
according  unto  your  words :  he  with  whom  it  is  found  shall 
be  my  servant;  and  ye  shall  be  blameless.  Then  they 
speedily  took  down  every  man  his  sack  to  the  ground,  and 
opened  every  man  his  sack.  And  he  searched,  and  began 
at  the  eldest  and  left  at  the  youngest:  and  the  cup  was 
found  in  Benjamin's  sack.  Then  they  rent  their  clothes, 
and  laded  every  man  his  ass,  and  returned  to  the  city. 

And  Judah  and  his  brethren  came  to  Joseph's  house,  for 
he  was  yet  there;  and  they  fell  before  him  on  the  ground. 
And  Joseph  said  unto  them,   What  deed  is  this  that  ye 


298  A   FIFTH    READER. 

have  done  ?  wot  ye  not  that  such  a  man  as  I  can  certainly 
divinfi.?  And  Judah  said,  What  shall  we  say  unto  my 
lord?  what  shall  we  speak?  or  how  shall  we  clear  our- 
selves ?  God  hath  found  out  the  in^ig^iity  of  thy  servants  : 
behold,  we  are  my  lord's  servants,  both  we  and  he  also 
with  whom  the  cup  is  found.  And  ho  said,  God  forbid 
that  I  should  do  so :  but  the  man  in  whose  hand  the  cup  is 
found,  he  shall  be  my  servant*;  and  as  for  you,  get  you  up 
in  peace  unto  your  father.       X 

Then  Judah  came  near  unto  him,  and  said,  O  my  lord ! 
let  thy  servant,  I  pray  thee,  speak  a  word  in  my  lord's  ears, 
and  let  not  thine  anger  burn  against  thy  servant :  for  thou 
art  even  as  Pharaoh.  My  lord  asked  his  servants,  saying, 
Have  ye  a  father,  or  a  brother?  And  we  said  unto  my 
lord.  We  have  a  father,  an  old  man,  and  a  child  of  his  old 
age,  a  little  one  ;  and  his  brother  is  dead,  and  he  alone  is 
left  of  his  mother,  and  his  father  loveth  him.  And  thou 
saidst  unto  thy  servants,  Bring  him  down  unto  me,  that  I 
may  set  mine  eyes  upon  him.  And  we  said  unto  my  lord. 
The  lad  cannot  leave  his  father :  for  if  he  should  leave  his 
father,  his  father  would  die.  And  tjiou  saidst  unto  thy 
servants.  Except  your  youngest  brother  come  down  with 
you,  ye  shall  see  my  face  no  more.  And  it  came  to  pass 
when  we  came  up  unto  thy  servant  my  father,  we  told  him 
the  words  of  my  lord.  And  our  father  said.  Go  again,  and 
buy  us  a  little  food.  And  we  said,  We  cannot  go  down  :  if 
our  youngest  brother  be  with  us,  then  will  we  go  down: 
for  we  may  not  see  the  man's  face,  except  our  youngest 
brother  be  with  us.  And  thy  servant  my  father  said  unto 
us,  Ye  know  that  my  wife  bare  me  two  sons ;  and  the  one 
went  out  from  me,  and  I  said,  Surely  he  is  torn  in  pieces ; 
and  I  saw  him  not  since ;  and  if  ye  take  this  also  from  me, 


THE    STORY    OF    JOSEPH.  299 

and  mischief  befall  him,  ye  shall  bring  down  my  gray  hairs 
with  sorrow  to  the  grave.  Now  therefore  when  I  come  to 
thy  servant  my  father,  and  the  lad  be  not  with  us,  seeing 
that  his  life  is  bound  up  in  the  lad's  life,  it  shall  come  to 
pass,  when  he  seeth  that  the  lad  is  not  with  us,  that  he  will 
die:  and  thy  servants  bring  down  the  gray  hairs  of  thy 
servant  our  father  with  sorrow  to  the  grave.  For  thy  ser- 
vant became  surety  for  the  lad  unto  my  father,  saying.  If 
I  bring  him  not  unto  thee,  then  I  shall  bear  the  blame  to 
my  father  for  ever.  Now  therefore,  I  pray  thee,  let  thy 
servant  abide  instead  of  the  lad  a  bondman  to  my  lord; 
and  let  the  lad  go  up  with  his  brethren.  For  how  shall  I 
go  up  to  my  father,  and  the  lad  be  not  with  me  ?  lest  per- 
adyenture  I  see  the  evil  that  shall  come  on  my  father. 

Then  Joseph  could  not  rolrain  himself  before  all  them 
that  stood  by  him ;  and  he  cried.  Cause  every  man  to  go 
out  from  me.  And  there  stood  no  man  with  him,  while 
Joseph  made  himself  known  unto  his  brethren.  And  he 
wept  aloud :  and  the  Egyptians  and  the  house  of  Pharaoh 
heard.  And  Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren,  I  am  Joseph ; 
doth  my  father  yet  live  ?  And  his  brethren  could  not 
answer  him  ;  for  they  were  troubled  at  his  presence.  And 
Joseph  said  unto  his  brethren,  Come  near  to  me,  I  pray  you. 
And  they  came  near.  And  he  said,  I  am  Joseph  your 
brother,  whom  ye  sold  into  Egypt.  Now  therefore  be  not 
grieved,  nor  angry  with  yourselves,  that  ye  sold  me  hither : 
for  God  did  send  me  before  you  to  preserve  life.  For  these 
two  years  hath  the  famine  been  in  the  land :  and  yet  there 
are  five  years,  in  the  which  there  shall  neither  be  earing  nor 
harvest.  And  God  sent  me  before  you  to  preserve  you  a 
posterity  in  the  earth,  and  to  save  your  lives  by  a  great 
deliverance.     So  now  it  was  not  you  that  sent  me  hither, 


300  A  FIFTH   READER. 

but  God :  and  he  hath  made  me  a  father  to  Pharaoh,  and 
lord  of  all  his  house,  and  a  ruler  throughout  all  the  land  of 
Egypt.  Haste  ye,  and  go  up  to  my  father,  and  say  unto 
him.  Thus  saith  thy  son  Joseph,  God  hath  made  me  lord  of 
all  Egypt :  come  down  unto  me,  tarry  not :  and  thou  shalt 
dwell  in  the  land  of  Goshen,  and  thou  shalt  be  near  unto 
me,  thou,  and  thy  children,  and  thy  children's  children,  and 
thy  flocks,  and  thy  herds,  and  all  that  thou  hast ;  and  there 
will  I  nourish  thee,  for  yet  there  are  five  years  of  famine  ; 
lest  thou,  and  thy  household,  and  all  that  thou  hast,  come 
to  poYerty.  And,  behold,  your  eyes  see,  and  the  eyes  of  my 
brother  Benjamin,  that  it  is  my  mouth  that  speaketh  unto 
you.  And  ye  shall  tell  my  father  of  all  my  glory  in  Egypt, 
and  of  all  that  ye  have  seen ;  and  ye  shall  haste  and  bring 
down  my  father  hither.  And  he  fell  upon  Benjamin's  neck, 
and  wept;  and  Benjamin  wept  upon  his  neck.  Moreover 
he  kissed  all  his  brethren,  and  wept  upon  them. 

And  they  went  up  out  of  Egypt,  and  came  into  the  land 
of  Canaan  unto  Jacob  their  father,  and  told  him,  saying, 
Joseph  is  yet  alive,  and  he  is  governor  over  all  the  land  of 
Egypt.  And  Jacob's  heart  fainted,  for  he  believed  them 
not.  And  they  told  him  all  the  words  of  Joseph,  which  he 
had  said  unto  them :  and  when  he  saw  the  wagons  which 
Joseph  had  sent  to  carry  him,  the  spirit  of  Jacob  their 
father  revived.  And  Israel  said,  It  is  enough ;  Joseph  my 
son  is  yet  alive :  I  will  go  and  see  him  before  I  die.  And 
Joseph  placed  his  father  and  his  brethren,  and  gave  them 
a  possession  in  the  land  of  Egypt,  in  the  best  of  the 
land,  in  the  land  of  Rameses,  as  Pharaoh  had  commanded. 
And  Joseph  nourished  his  father,  and  his  brethren,  and 
all  his  father's  household,  with  bread,  according  to  their 
families. 


LEXICON. 


Ab-bre'vi-a-ted,  shortened ;  reduced  in 

size. 
Ac-cu'mu-la-ted,  piled  up. 
Ad-hered',  stuck  to. 
Ad-mo-ni'tion,  advice. 
Ad-verse',  hostile ;  opposed. 
Al'a-bas-ter,    a    beautiful    variety    of 

marble. 
Al-ter'nate-ly,  by  turns. 
A-nat'o-my,  the  structure  of  the  body. 
Ap-pre-hen'sion,  fear. 
Apse,  a  projection  from  the  end  of  a 

church. 
Arms  a-kim'bo,  with  hands  on  hips. 
Ar-o-mat'ic,  having  a  spicy  odor. 
As-cer-tain'ing,  finding  out. 
As-sid'u-ous-ly,  industriously  ;  without 

stopping. 
As-tound'ing,  very  surprising. 
As'tro-labe,  an  instrument  for  showing 

the  positions  of  the  stars. 
At'ti-tude,  position  of  the  body. 
A-verred',  said. 
Az'ure  (azh'ur),  blue. 

Be-lea'guer,  to  besiege. 
Bellum,  Latin  for  war.     , 
Be-queathed',  left  by  will. 
Ber'serk,  a  half-crazed,  brave  warrior 

among  the  Norsemen. 
Butt,  a  large  cask. 

Cab-a-lis'tic,  having  a  secret  meaning. 
Cai'tiflF,  a  mean,  wicked  person. 
Ca'liph,  ruler  of  the  Mohammedans. 
Car'bun-cle,  a  precious  stone  of  a  red 
color- 

(30 


Car'nage,  bloodshed. 

Cas'tel-la-ted,  like  a  castle. 

Cat'a-racts,  waterfalls. 

Ca-tas'tro-phe,  disaster. 

Cav'em-ous,  hollow. 

Chron'i-cled,  recorded. 

Chrys'a-lids,  the  insects  in  cocoons. 

Ci-ca'da,  a  locust. 

Cir-cum'fer-ence,  the  outside ;  distance 
around. 

Clove,  cut  in  two. 

Co-coon',  the  case  in  which  some  in- 
sects pass  the  chrysalis  period. 

Col-lapsed',  gave  way  utterly. 

Co'ma,  unconsciousness,  like  sleep. 

Com-mu'ni-ca  ting,  making  common  ; 
transferring  to  others. 

Com'plai-sanee  (kom'pla-zans),  disposi- 
tion to  please. 

Com-pli'ance,  yielding. 

Com-posed',  quieted. 

Con-cer'to,  a  kind  of  musical  compo- 
sition. 

Con-clu'sisre-ly,  as  if  it  ended  the 
matter. 

Con-cus'slon,  blow. 

Con-fla-gra'tion,  great  fire. 

Con-gealed',  froze  or  frozen. 

Con'jur-ing,  using  magic. 

Con-sid-er-a'tion,  thought ;  reason. 

Con-ster-na'tion,  great  alarm. 

Con'tem-pla-ting,  considering ;  look- 
ing at. 

Con'tu-me-ly,  insult. 

Con-vulsed',  disturbed  ;  unsteady. 

Con-vul'slon,  spasm. 

Con-vul'sive,  like  a  spasm. 

1) 


302 


LEXICON. 


Copse,  a  wood. 

Cor'al-line   (kOr'al-lIn),  a  small  coral- 
like  animal. 
Cor'mo-rant,  a  greedy  sea  bird. 
Corselet,  armor  for  the  body. 
Cre'dence,  belief. 
Cru'ci-ble,  a  melting-pot. 
Crys'tal-liz-ing,  forming  crystals. 
Cul-dee',  ancient  priest  in  Scotland. 

De-crep'it,  feeble  from  age. 
De-flec'tions,  changes ;  turnings. 
De-lib'er-ate-ly,  thoughtfully. 
Dep-re-ca'ting-ly,  in  a  pleading  manner. 
De-rived%  drawn  from ;  got  out  of. 
Des'ti-nies,  fates. 
De-vised',  worked  out. 
Dic'tum,  word. 
Di-lem'ma,  difficulty;   choice  between 

two. 
Dim-i-nu'tion,  growing  less. 
Di-min'u-tive,  very  small. 
Dis-com'fort-ed,  distressed. 
Dis-sem'ble,  to  deceive. 
Dis-tend'ed,  wide  apart. 
Dis-tort'ed,  twisted ;  unjust. 
Di-vest'ed,  rid  ;  took  off. 
Di-vi'neth,  f oretelleth ;  prophesies. 
Don,  to  put  on. 
Doublet,  (dablet),  coat. 
Druid,  priest  of  ancient  Britain. 
Du-ellum,  duel ;  a  battle  between  two. 


E-con  o-mi-zes,  saves. 

Ec'sta-sy,     intense     feeling,     usually 

joyous. 
Ef-fect'u-al-ly,  with  effect;  well. 
Ef-fer-ves'cent,  bubbling. 
E-jac'u-la-ted,  cried  out. 
Ere-ments,  the  simple,  essential  parts. 
Eml-nence,  height. 
Eml-nent,  high. 
E-mit'ting,  sending  out. 
Erst,  formerly. 

E-vap'o-rate,  to  disappear  in  vapor. 
E-ven'tu-al-ly,  finally  ;  in  the  end. 
Ex-actl-tude,  exactness ;  correctness. 


Ex-ag-ger-a'tion  (6gz-aj-jer-a'shun),  en- 
largement ;    over-stating. 
Ex-ceed'ing-ly,  very. 
Ex-cesslve-ly,  very;  overmuch. 
Exit,  going  out. 
Ex-pi-ra'tion,  end. 
Ex-tin'guished,  put  out. 
Ex-traor'di-na-ry,  unusual ;  strange. 
Ex-treml-ty,  extreme  peril. 
Exlri-cate,  to  free. 

Per'tile,  rich ;  productive. 
Firth,  an  arm  of  the  sea. 
Fore-bode',  to  predict ;  to  threaten. 
Fren'zy,  madness. 
Fronlier,  border. 

Gael  (gale),  one  of  the  early  inhabitants 
of  the  Scottish  Highlands. 

Gen-er-alion,  the  average  lifetime  of 
man. 

Gerlal-con  (jer'faw-k'n),  a  bird  trained 
to  hunt  other  birds. 

Gla'cier  (gla'slier),  a  river  of  ice. 

Gra-da'tion,  steps. 

Gravl-ty,  soberness ;  seriousness. 

Grif'fln,  a  fabled  monster,  lialf  lion, 
half  eagle. 

Guer'don  (gur'dun),  reward;  recom- 
pense. 

Guile  (glle),  deceit. 

Hab-i-ta'tion,  dwelling. 
Ha-rangue',  noisy  speech. 
Har'row-ing,  distressing. 
Haugh'ty,  proud. 

Helm,  helmet ;  armor  for  the  head. 
Hob,  a  slielf  in  a  fireplace. 
Hor'o-loge,  a  timepiece. 

D-lu-mi-na'tion,  lighting  up  for  cele- 
bration. 

Im-meas'ur-a-ble,  too  large  to  be 
measured. 

Im-me'di-ate,  at  once;  near. 

Im-pen'e-tra-ble,  that  cannot  be 
pierced. 


LEXICON. 


303 


Im-prac'ti-ca-ble,  that  cannot  be  done ; 
impossible. 

Im-pru'dent,  foolish;  venturesome. 

In-an'i-mate,  lifeless ;  still. 

In-au'di-ble,  that  cannot  be  heard. 

In-can-ta'tions,  formulas  of  words  for 
producing  enchantments. 

In-ces'sant-ly,  without  ceasing. 

In-com-mode',  to  put  out ;  to  get  in 
the  way. 

In-cum'branee,  hindrance. 

In-dom'i-ta-ble,  unconquerable. 

In-ev'i-ta^bly,  surely. 

In-iq'ui-ty,  wickedness. 

In-scribed',  written  on,  or  in. 

In-stinc'tive,  natural. 

In-ter-ne'cine,  between  related  tribes 
or  people. 

In-ter-posed',  put  between. 

In-ter-pre-ta'tion,  making  plain. 

In-torer-a-ble,  more  than  can  be  en- 
dured. 

In-tract'a-ble,  hard  to  manage. 

In-un-da'tion,  flood. 

In-vig'or-a-ting,  strengthening. 

In-vol'un-ta-ry,  not  intentional. 

I-ron'ic-al-ly,  ridiculing  by  saying  one 
thing  and  meaning  another. 

Ir-re-press'i-ble,  that  cannot  be  con- 
trolled. 

Jen'net,  a  small  kind  of  horse. 

Kine,  cattle. 

Xx}ath,  unwilling. 

Ijoathe,  to  despise ;  to  view  with  dis- 
gust. 
Iju'rid,  ghastly  pale, 
liux-u'ri-ant,  abundant. 

Mag-a-zine',  a  storehouse. 

Mag'ni-tude,  size. 

Ma-li'cious  (ma-lish'us),  wicked  ;  tak- 
ing pleasure  in  injuring  others. 

Ma-lig'ni-ty,  hatefulness ;  desire  to  in- 
jure others. 

Man'i-fest,  plain ;  self-evident. 


Man'i-fest-ed,  showed. 

Ma-raud'ers,  robbers. 

Mat'ins,  morning  prayers. 

Med'i-ta-tive-ly,  thoughtfully. 

Meran-chol-y,  sad. 

Mis'ere-ant,  a  wrong  doer. 

Mo-men'tous,  very  important. 

Mo-not'o-nous,  on  the  same  note ; 
tedious. 

Mu'ti-nous,  rebellious. 

Myr'i-ads,  many  thousands. 

Myr'mi-don§,  fierce  warriors. 

Myrrh  (mur),  a  fragrant,  bitter  gum. 

'•  ■ 

Nath'less,  nevertheless. 

Nave,  the  main  body  of  a  church. 

Nec'ro-man-cer,  a  magician. 

Ni-zam'  (ne  zahm'),  a  chief  ruler  of 
one  of  the  provinces  of  India. 

Nox'ious  (nok'shus),  harmful ;  poison- 
ous. 

Nun'cheon,  a  noon  lunch. 

O-bei'sance  (o-be'sans),  a  low  bow. 
Ob'e-lisk,  a  tapering  monument. 
Ob-strep'er-ous,  troublesome;  willful. 
Orbs,  spheres. 
O'ri-ent,  oriental ;  eastern. 
Or-ni-thoro-gy,  the  study  of  birds. 
O'sier  (o'zhur),  a  kind  of  willow. 

Pacl-fy  (pas'i-fi),  to  make  peace  be- 
tween. 

Pam'pered,  over-fed  ;  treated  to  luxury. 

Pan'o-ply,  armor. 

Par'a-lyzed,  made  weak  and  helpless. 

Pat'ri-mo-ny,  an  inherited  estate. 

Pat'ron-i-zing,  in  the  manner  of  a 
superior. 

Paunch,  stomach ;  belly. 

Per-ad-ven'ture,  perhaps ;  perchance. 

Per-pet'u-al,  never  ending. 

Per-spec'tive-glass,  spyglass ;  telescope. 

Per-ti-na'cious,  persistent ;  "  sticking 
to  "  an  undertaking  ;  obstinate. 

Per-ti-nac'i-ty,  persistency;  obstinacy. 

Pes'ti-lent,  evil ;   liarmful. 

Pet'u-lant-ly,  crossly. 


304 


LEXICON. 


Pin'na-cles,  high  points  or  peaks. 

Pin 'net,  a  pinnacle. 

Plac'id  (plas'id),  quiet. 

Por'tents,  ominous  signs. 

Pos'ture,  position ;  attitude. 

Pre-pos'ter-ous,  absurd. 

Pris-mat'ic,  made  by  light  passing 
through  a  prism  ;  like  a  rainbow. 

Pro-bos'cis,  snout. 

Pro-gen'i-tors,  forefathers.  - 

Pro-ject'ing,  sticking  out,  or  over. 

Pro-nun'ci-a-tive,  distinct. 

Pros'trate,  lying  flat. 

Prov'en-der,  dry  food  for  animals. 

Punc-tirios(-y6z),  petty  rules  of  con- 
duct. 

Pyre,  a  pile  on  which  bodies  of  the  dead 
are  burned. 

Back,  an  alcoholic  liquor. 
Be-cruit'ed,  refreshed  ;   strengthened, 
Ke-doubt'a-ble,  valiant ;  terrible. 
Re-frac'to-ry,  hard  to  manage. 
Re-mote',  far  away. 
Re-spect'ive,  own. 
Res-pi-ra'tion,  breathing. 
Re-ten'tion,  keeping. 
Rhen'ish,  of  the  Rhine ;  a  kind  of  wine. 
Runes,   the   characters    in    which   the 

Norse  wrote  their  poems. 
Ru'nic,  of  runes. 

Sa'ble-stoled,  black-robed. 

Sa'ga,  a  Norse  tale  or  poem. 

Sa-ga'cious,  wise  ;  shrewd. 

Sa'mite  (sa'mit),  a  beautiful  variety  of 

silk  cloth. 
Sconce,  head. 

Se-clu'ded,  separated  ;  shut  out. 
Sen'si-bly,  evidently, 
Se'ries,  row ;  succession. 
Sex'tant,  an  instrument  for  measuring 

angular  distances, 
Sig-nif  i-cant,  having  a  meaning. 
Skald,  a  bard  of  the  ancient  Norsemen, 
Skaw,  a  promontory. 
Skip'per,  a  sea  captaiu. 
Skoal,  iiail ! 


Spurned,  pushed  aside ;  treated  with 

scorn. 
Stan'chion,  an  upright  support. 
Stu-pen'dous,  very  great. 
Sub-si'ded,  grew  quiet. 
Suc-cess'ive,  repeated. 
Sup-po-si'tion,  guess. 
Swathed,  wound  around. 
Sway'ing,  guiding,  controlling. 

Tael    (tale),    a    Chinese    measure    of 

weight,   being    about    one   and    one 

third  ounces. 
Taris-man,  a  charm, 
Tax'i-der-mists,  those   who   stuff  and 

mount  2he  skins  of  animals. 
Trans-mit',  send  ;  hand  down. 
Trans'ports,       intense       feelings       of 

pleasure. 
Trav'erse,  to  pass  through. 
Tre-men'dous,   very    big;    3nough  to 

frigliten, 
Tr6th,  a  pledge. 

Un-daunt'ed,  not  frightened. 
Un'du-la-ting,  waving. 
Un-ob-struct'ed-ly,  without  hindrance. 
Un-wit'ting,  unthinking ;  uot  knowing, 

Val-halla,  according  to  Norse  mythol- 
ogy, the  place  where  good  warriors 
were  supposed  to  go  after  death, 

Vam'pire-bat,  a  blood-sucking  bat  of 
Asia. 

Vault,  a  hollow  place  ;  a  tomb. 

Ve-loc'i-ty,  swiftness. 

Ven'er-a-ble,  worthy  of  respect  because 
of  age. 

Ver'dict,  decision. 

Vi-bra'tion,  shaking. 

Vi'cious  (vish'-us),  ugly. 

Vi-gnette'(vin-yet'),  a  decorative  design. 

Vi'king,  a  Norse  sea-rover  or  pirate. 

Vis'age,  countenance ;  looks. 

Vi-va'cious,  lively. 

Was'sail-bout,  a  drinking  carousal. 
Were'wolf ,  a  person  transformed  into 
a  wolf. 


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